


Dark Souls Short Stories

by MrsLittletall



Category: Dark Souls (Video Games)
Genre: A bunch of short stories in the world of Dark Souls, Based on my headcanons, Cannibalism, M/M, Polyamorous Relationships, can be fluff or angst, contains Smoughstein, for easier navigating, individual ship was added to the chapter titles, mental breakdowns, sniffing fetish, whatever I am in the mood for
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-18
Updated: 2019-03-06
Packaged: 2019-03-20 17:40:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 22,462
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13722741
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrsLittletall/pseuds/MrsLittletall
Summary: A bunch of short stories set in the world of Dark Souls.Every time I will write a story in the Dark Souls universe that is not longer than 2k words it will end up here.





	1. Snowball Duel

**Author's Note:**

> When it was snowing at my place my mind got some inspiration and I was thinking about Ornstein and Artorias taking a snowball duel a bit too far.

Artorias looked at the perfect snowball in his hand he had formed out of a mood. This thing just begged to be thrown, but with a strength like his, he had to be really careful who it would be.   
Hmm… Did he spot Ornstein a bit further away on his usual patrol? That was the perfect opportunity! Artorias aimed and threw the snowball at the captain.  
__  
Ornstein was carefully trudging through the snow as he was suddenly hit full force with something from behind and fell face first into the snow. What the…? He got up and spotted Artorias from a bit higher up waving cheerfully at him. That was asking for revenge. He formed a snowball of his own and threw it. Artorias would be in for a little surprise…  
__  
Artorias watched Ornstein’s snowball travel in his direction. It seemed rather slow. He wouldn’t have to bother dodging this. But something with that snowball seemed… strange. Was there like… a spark around it? Oh no! Ornstein really had infused this thing with his lightning powers and now it was too late to dodge so Artorias got hit with an electrical shock which made him fall over.   
So… he wanted a war, he could have it! Artorias started to make his move!  
___  
Ornstein watched with delight seeing the snowball had the effect he wanted it to be. And also seeing Artorias making his next move. This duel was on!

Artorias couldn’t be serious. This thing was huge. Even though Ornstein knew he should probably dodge this he was frozen in place, to surprised to actually move. The impact hit hard, sending him flying on the ground and making him see stars for a moment. That had definitely hurt. He was grateful for wearing his armour cause without it could have ended far worse. Ornstein felt how someone pulled him up from the ground. “Are you alright? I am so sorry. I went too far. I got carried away.”, he heard Artorias say. “We should better stop for now.”, Artorias continued. “Good.” Ornstein replied. “Cause I am bleeding.” The impact had caused a nosebleed that he just had noticed. That made Artorias even more shocked, apologizing to him even more. “Don’t worry, it’s just a nosebleed.”, he said to calm Artorias down. “It’s not like I’ve broken a bone or something.” “But then you should better sit down for a while until it stops.” Artorias said, forcing Ornstein gently to the ground and giving him a handkerchief after the other knight had removed his helmet. “I really am sorry. I didn’t intend for you to get hurt. I was expecting you to dodge it.” “I kind of.. forgot.”, Ornstein admitted. “Stop apologizing, it’s just a little nosebleed. Also… Artorias, you totally won this duel.”


	2. The Big Kitten (Smoughstein)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Smoughstein ahead!

Shortly after they had become a thing in silent agreement, Smough woke up one morning only to find that Ornstein was sleeping next to him. He must have crawled into his bed in the night and was now sleeping snuggled up against him (and looking incredibly cute doing so). After he woke up, he acted like this was the most normal thing in the world and just did go on with his day.

The next day, it happened again. Smough once again woke up and find Ornstein snuggled up against him. Didn’t seem like this was a one time thing after all.

In the third night, Smough decided to try to stay awake to find out when Ornstein would show up. It actually didn’t pass much time when he heard the door open. Smough quickly acted like he was asleep, hearing foot steps coming closer. Ornstein seemed to wait a moment before crawling into his bed and snuggling up once again against him. 

The fourth night, Smough decided to confront Ornstein about this in the morning.

“You are basically like a big kitten.”, he stated.

Ornstein looked flustered: “What? I am not like a big kitten.”

Smough had to grin about his: “Oh really? You crawl into my bed every night, snuggle up and act like nothing happened the next morning. At this point I wouldn’t even be surprised if you started to purr.”

Ornstein’s face turned red and he avoided Smough’s gaze. “You don’t want me to come into your bed anymore?”, he murmured, sounding disappointed.

“What? No.”, Smough pulled Ornstein into a hug. “You may act like a big kitten, but you are my big kitten.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ornstein is basically Smough's big kitten ^^
> 
> I wrote this up in my lunch break. It was a really spontaneous idea after I realized that Ornstein showed affection very much like a cat in my imagination.


	3. The Origins

Ornstein had just finished assigned the Silver Knights to their night shifts when he saw Artorias walk past, looking down at a piece of paper, seeming to be a little upset. Ornstein quickly followed him, wanting to know what his friend's problem was: "Artorias! Did you get some bad news?" 

Artorias looked up upon hearing the voice of his friend: "Oh, Ornstein. No, it's nothing bad. It is just... my parents. Now that the war is over, they urge me to settle down, getting married and get a child, but..." He sighed. "I am not up for this now. We still have our duties here and could die anytime while we are on it. I don't want to leave a wife and child behind." 

"That makes absolute sense.", Ornstein reassured his friend. "You should tell your parents. I am sure they will understand." He paused for a while and then added: "At least you have parents you can get into arguments with. That is a nice thing."

They had wandered one of the corridors aimlessly, but now Artorias stopped: "Wait, Ornstein. I never have you heard talking about your parents."

Ornstein stopped too: "Uh... it is because... I don't have any. No, I put that wrong. I obviously have parents or I wouldn't be here right now. It's just that I have... never met them. I was abandoned right after being born."

Ornstein could feel Artorias shocked gaze on him: "Please, Artorias, don't give me that look. That is exactly the reason why I never tell anyone about this. I don't want your pity. I have been over this for a long time now." Ornstein started to walk forward again, Artorias quickly caugth up with him, asking: "So... who raised you?" 

"I grew up in an orphanage. My parents seemed to have enough common sense to lay me down right before one.", Ornstein replied. "That's also where I got my name."

That got Artorias curiosity: "Tell me more."

"All right. So the Orphanage had been funded by a man with the name Ornstein, I think he was a musician or something. I seemed to remind the matron there of him, so she started calling me by the same name. She later told me she tried to give me a different name, but at that point Ornstein was pretty much the only one I reacted too.", Ornstein explained. He then noticed Artorias had this dreamy look on his face. "You must have been an adorable toddler.", Artorias said. Ornstein sighes: "Figures..."

After entering the balcony they had to stop walking. Ornstein leaned about the railing, watching the Silver Knights patroling when Artorias spoke again: "Did you ever think about searching out your parents?"

"Honestly, no.", Ornstein replied while still looking down. "I don't even know where I should start. And even if I would find them, what should I say to them? Why?" He paused and looked at Artorias before looking down again: "There are plenty of reasons to abandon a child. Maybe they didn't want to raise a child while dragons ruled. Maybe I am a bastard. Maybe they just didn't want me." 

He pulled himself up again and faced Artorias once more: "Besides, I don't have a bad life now. I have a great position as captain of Gwyn's knights. I made myself a name as the Dragon Slayer. I have subordinates and a place I can call home. And I have found some really good friends." 

Artorias didn't seem to be too convinced: "So you are not holding a grudge against your parents?"

Ornstein shook his head: "No, not at all. Maybe I did this when I was still a kid, but I told you I've been over this for a long time now." He started to grin: "Also, I find it rather amusing. The child that they didn't want grew up into the man who is now called the famous Dragon Slayer. I bet they regret their decisions now!"

Artorias sighed: "Oh, I see why you don't hold a grudge. It is because it all turned into spite."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I headcanon Ornstein to have some abandonment issues, but that had to come from somewhere, right? So I was thinking he could have been abandoned in his very early childhood. 
> 
> This is just my own interpretation. We know pretty much nothing about Ornstein's childhood and everyone has their own interpretation and I must be honest, I would love to hear your interpretation.


	4. The Hobbies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What could the creative hobbies of the knights be?

Ornstein was looking for Artorias. He intended to get some of the paperwork done and needed the wolf knight for helping him out. He actually wouldn't have a problem doing he paperwork on his own, but after he had received plenty of complaints, that his handwriting apparently was illegible, he had started to ask Artorias for help. 

On his search he noticed some silver knights happily munching away on some cookies. Huh, strange, where had they got these? Whatever, that wasn't important right now. Only after Ciaran, Gough and even the princess had walked by each having cookies on their own, he started to grow suspicious. Had he missed something? 

"Good evening, Ornstein. Do you want a cookie?" That was the voice of Artorias. And immediately answered Ornstein's question about where the cookies came from, cause Artorias was holding a plate with them on it. "Oh sure.", the dragon slayer answered and picked one up, deciding to eat it later, cause he was still in full armour. Then he remembered why exactly he had searched for his friend: "I wanted to get some paperwork done and ask for your help as usual. Apparently you haven't anything important to do, cause you are handing cookies out to everyone..." Artorias gave him a smile: "Sure, I have time. Let's go to your room." 

After entering Ornstein's room, the dragon slayer discarded his armour and Artorias put the plate with the remaining cookies on the table. Ornstein then got the papers they needed to look through and fill out as well as some quills and ink. Ornstein mostly needed Artorias to fill out or write down things for him, the handwriting of the wolf knight was so pristine and beautiful, nobody ever complained about that. After a short while of working together, Ornstein remembered the cookie from earlier and decided to try it. 

"These are really tasty.", he said. "Where did you get these?"

"I made them myself." Artorias answered. He then looked up after he realized that Ornstein was staring at him. "What?"

"Sorry, it is just... Such a weird thing to imagine you standing in the kitchen and bake...", Ornstein said, still with that image in his mind. 

"It's just a thing I like to do. I find it rather relaxing. I often helped my dear mother with baking. She taught me all of her recipes.", Artorias told him. "The servants are letting you use the kitchen if you just ask nicely." 

"I see. Still, I had no clue you can bake." 

They continued their work until Artorias spoke up again: "You surely have a thing you do to relax in your free time too, right?"

Ornstein looked at Artorias, a bit confused: "You know this. I like to jog."

Artorias shook his head: "First, you are the only person who would consider running at full speed through Anor Londo a jog. And second, I meant something creative." He started to count with his fingers: "I mean, Gough likes to carve, I like to bake, Ciaran told me that she is writing a novel based on her experience as an assassin..."

Ornstein spent a moment thinking about if a tall, handsome wolf knight would be introduced as love interest for the heroine in the novel, when Artorias finished his sentence: "What is it for you? Do you have something like this?"

Ornstein didn't have to think long about this: "Drawing. I like to doodle up stuff before I go to sleep."

Oh no, Artorias got that dreamy look in his face. "Oh please, would you show them to me, Ornstein?"

He had feared that: "I don't know... I normally don't show them around..."

"Please? If you show them to me, I will make some cookies for you I bet you haven't tasted in your life yet."

Did Artorias really think he could bait him with food? The sad thing was, it worked. He was really eager to try out some more of Artorias' cookies and he especially liked to try out new things. 

"Fine. I'll get them." He got up and got a stack of papers out of the drawers of his nightstand. After walking back to the table, he handed them to Artorias. 

His friend looked at them in delight: "This is prince Gwynfor. That is really good, Ornstein. You draw much better than you write. Of course, I don't have a problem with reading it, but everyone else has." He chuckled a bit and proceeded to look at the next picture. And the next. And another one. And then he spoke up: "Ornstein... These are all of prince Gwynfor..."

"I just really like to draw him, he is a great motive.", Ornstein said, avoiding Artorias gaze. 

"I guess, that is true.", Artorias said, smiling. Then that dreamy look came back. "How about... can you try to draw me?"

Ornstein had seen this coming this time: "I guess. It would be a nice change for once. Let me just get a pen and some blank paper."

A good chunk of time passed and Artorias had made Ornstein draw not only him, but also Ciaran, Gough and the dragon slayer himself ("You can't have the knights of Gwyn without their captain."), Gwyndolin, Princess Gwynevere and Lord Gwyn. Just as he was searching for a new motive, Ornstein noticed the stack of undone paperwork. "Artorias! We got sidetracked! We should go back to work."

Artorias gaze fell on the paperwork too. "Oh, I guess, you are right. Let's get back to work."

A few minutes later Artorias looked at the drawings once again and asked: "Can I keep them?"

Ornstein gave his friend a warm smile: "Sure."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you read and liked this chapter, I would appreciate if you could leave me a comment. Thanks a lot.


	5. Comfort Clothing (Smoughstein)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some more cute Smoughstein interaction ahead

"Smough, aren't you done yet?"

Smough was in the middle of making the dishes when he heard his boyfriend's question who was standing in the door. 

"Not yet. And I plan on doing some of the other housework too. I am sorry but you have to relinquish on me for now. Just go and relax or something."

Ornstein didn't seem to be happy with that answer but complied anyway. "Fine.", he said and walked away. 

Normally it would be Ornstein's duty doing the dishes. Smough cooked most of the time anyway. Even though Ornstein sometimes took over cooking, since the kitchen fire incident the dragon slayer refused to cook anything without Smough supervising him. But Ornstein had been sick only a few days ago and Smough had insisted that he would take it easy for a while. Ornstein was still prone to getting a fever. And he had been clingy lately. And that would only get worse if his fever returned. It wasn't surprising that all that Smough often started to call him kitten as a nickname. 

Smough didn't even mind doing the majority of the housework. He was used to cook his own food, doing his own laundry and cleaning his own room anyway. He didn't had the best reputation in Anor Londo and had been alone and shunned anyway, so he did had loads of time to do all the housework himself next to his job as the executioner. After the dishes he planned on doing some laundry and clean up for a bit. And after he was done with all the work he could ask Ornstein if he wanted to take a bath with him and they could have some fun. 

Smough dried the last plate and put it away and left the kitchen. He saw his boyfriend walk past, but something looked different. Whatever, it probably wasn't that important anyway. Maybe Ornstein had just changed into other clothes. Smough went to their room to collect the dirty laundry next. That was when he noticed that one of his tunics were missing. He was sure he had put it there yesterday evening. The executioner got a suspicion...

He found Ornstein in the room they usually would use to hang around, reading a book. And he could confirm his suspicion. Ornstein indeed wore the tunic he missed earlier. Because of that he had looked different earlier. Smough's clothes were far too big for the dragon slayer, being taller and a lot more chubby in contrast to Ornstein who was pretty much ripped. Smough approached his boyfriend: "Um.. you know, I wanted to wash this... Why are you wearing my clothes anyway?" Ornstein startled a bit at the sound of his voice and then looked clear busted: "I liked the smell and it just feels comforting to wear..."

"So, you are wearing my used clothes and you are probably still denying that you are a kitten.", Smough said. He should actually be mad at Ornstein, not only had he taken his clothes without asking, he now also had a loophole for procrastinating his laundry even more. But he couldn't. He looked just too cute in that oversized tunic, it was long enough to cover his body down to his knees and the sleeves covered his hands entirely, needed to turn around several times so that he would get the usage of them back. 

Smough sat down next to Ornstein: "I just can't be mad at you for this. It's too cute. Besides, you are just feeling lonely, right? You can keep it on, but you have to wash it for me the next time, alright?"

Ornstein gave Smough a hug: "Thanks so much, Smough. I promise I will." 

Smough carefully released himself out of Ornstein's hug. With how clingy his boyfriend was lately, he wouldn't let loose for a long time. With him in that state, Smough would at least like to give him something to look forward to: "You know what? When I am done with everything I was planning on taking a bath. You are invited to join me."

Ornstein smiled at him, that cute smile that showed his little fangs: "With pleasure."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I like the idea that Ornstein would wear Smough's clothes as comfort wear. And I especially love characters wearing far oversized clothes, so that headcanon was a no-brainer for me.


	6. A Nightly Talk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ciaran finds Ornstein late at night and wants to know what he is doing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this piece is kind of a continuation of this piece: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13850043
> 
> But you don't have to actually read it to get it. It just explains the topic of this chapter a bit better.

Ciaran enjoyed the nighttime. Her job as an assassin often would be done in the dark, so she felt right at home in the night. She enjoyed the stillness and the calm of the night, wandering the cathedral of Anor Londo, only coming along the occassional silver knight on night patrol. Even though most of the lights weren't lit by now, a few of them still burned and provided some more light. Not that she needed that light. She could see in the dark just fine, being so used to work in it. And while most people were amazed by the sight of the cathedral shining golden in the light, Ciaran always thought the dark version looked a lot more stunning. She often wandered around, taking in the sight and the calm of the night before heading to bed. Normally so late nobody expect the patrolling silver knights would be out anymore, so she was surprised when she saw a figure sitting on the stairs leading to the trophy room. 

Ciaran carefully approached the figure but once she spotted that bright red ponytail she instantly knew who it was. What was Ornstein doing in the middle of the night here? He was dressed in some linen clothes, coloured green which did go well with his eyes of the same colour and was a nice contrast to his red hair. He also had some paper with him, stabilized by a book and appeared to be drawing on it. Ciaran herself was still wearing her armour set. Seeing that Ornstein had took the time to change into different clothes implied that he actually had been planning to end his day. She did get closer and sat down next to him.

"What are you doing?"

Ornstein startled at her voice, he seemed to have been very engrossed in his work. When he noticed that Ciaran sat beside his side, he stopped and answered: "Drawing?" 

Well, if that wasn't obvious. She asked further: "Outside of your room?" 

"The light here is better.", Ornstein answered. "I don't need to light a candle out here."

"It's the middle of the night?"

"I couldn't sleep well."

Ciaran sighed: "That still didn't answer why you are sitting out here in the middle of night drawing. Do I have to pull every single word out of you?"

"Well, maybe you should have been more specific.", Ornstein grumbled. "Artorias put a thought into my head earlier and I couldn't stop thinking about it. I thought drawing about it could help." He put his attention back on his drawing.

Ciaran wanted to know what he was drawing and took a look at the paper. 

"The path of the dragon? That is an ancient practice. Nobody does this anymore. ... I guess you are partially responsible for this." She gave Ornstein a little nudge: "Right, dragon slayer?" 

"Ciaran, now I made a mistake.", Ornstein said, sounding a bit irritated. "Now I have to start anew." He grabbed a fresh piece of paper which gave Ciaran now enough time to look at the drawing in detail.

"I don't think they had wings that large.", she said. "How should they be able to fly? They were said to resemble dragons, not being exactly like dragons." 

"Fine, I make the wings smaller.", Ornstein said. "But they had tails and horns, right? Or did I draw the tail too long too?" 

"I don't know that much about the path of the dragon. Like I said this is an ancient practice.", Ciaran admitted. "But judging from your picture you let them put their weight on the toes. When they are really walking like that they definitely need a tail for balance reasons. Why are you exploring the path of the dragon anyway? Seems widly ironic for you."

Ornstein spent a moment to put the finished touches on the drawing of the drake like figure, then put the pencil down: "I told you that Artorias put a thought in my head, right? He implied that I could have a dragon heritage." 

"And where did Artorias get this idea? You are not looking like a hybrid to me.", Ciaran said. 

"My teeth.", Ornstein said and showed the ones that looked like little fangs. "He based it from there and it actually made a lot of sense." He raised his hand again and started a second drawing right next to the first one. 

"Wait, you are telling me these things are natural? I always thought you had sharpened them yourself to look more menacing. Which isn't the case by the way."

Ornstein put the pencil down and looked at Ciaran with a frown: "Ciaran, should I be offended by this or take it as a compliment?"

"Whatever you want.", she said with a smirk that couldn't be seen beneath her mask.

"I have the feeling I know exactly which face you are making right now.", Ornstein grumbled and took the pencil up again. 

"But just by looking at your teeth he came up with dragon? Cats have teeth like this too and you remind me of a cat anyway. So maybe you just have a cat heritage? This also fits very well with your lion armour." 

"Ciaran, by that logic Artorias would be a dog!" 

That gave her an idea: "Oooh, could you draw Artorias as a dog?" 

"What, wearing his armour set and all?", Ornstein said, scratching his head. But then he provided anyway on a fresh piece of paper. Ciaran glanced at the unfinished second drawing next to the drake. This figure looked a lot more humanoid but still had a tail, horns, claws, a full row of sharp teeth and some scales.

"Oh, I get it.", she concluded. "Artorias is thinking you could have some ancestors that walked the path of the dragon." 

"Correct.", Ornstein nodded, not looking up from his drawing. She was under the impression he had actually fun doing this. 

"But still...", Ciaran started. "It doesn't exactly have to be a dragon heritage. Who knows what people prayed to earlier? Maybe there was some cat deity around that got lost in history."

"Really? You think there were cat people around? Did they intimidate their foes with cuteness or what? Of course that would work with Artorias." He had finished the drawing and gave it to Ciaran. She was actually impressed. The drawn dog really resembled Artorias, he was shown excitedly panting and wagging his tail. And he even wore Artorias armour set in a dog version. "That's so cute...", she said. 

"I guess even Artorias would like it. But I bet he would ask me to draw the other ones as animals too then." Ornstein picked up the drawing with the hybrids again and finished the second figure on it, then started a third.

Ciaran had let herself got distracted. "Wait, we were talking about something completely different!", she called out. "Cat hybrids."

"Yes and I was asking you if they planned to intimidate their foes with cuteness.", Ornstein said. The third figure took shape and now looked almost completely humanoid but still had some horns and large fangs.

"I doesn't have to be a house cat.," she admitted. "I was thinking about something bigger. Like a lion for example. After all, you are wearing armour designed after a lion and it looks very menacing." 

"I can get behind this.", Ornstein took a new piece of paper and started another drawing.

"But why are you so worked up about this anyway? Why don't you just ask your parents about your ancestors?", Ciaran asked. 

Ornstein stopped for a brief moment and shook his head: "... not possible."

Ciaran winced: "I am sorry, I didn't want to evoke bad memories..." She wondered if she just had found out why he was the dragon slayer. 

"Don't worry about it. I have been over this for a long time now.", he said. He had finished his sketch and showed it to Ciaran: "Do you meant something like this?" The drawing showed a menacing looking lion warrior complete with mane, claws and teeth. "Exactly.", she said. 

Ornstein was out of paper now. He put the book and the pencil down and stretched. "I think this really helped. Thanks for keeping me company, Ciaran."

"Oh, that wasn't any trouble. I like to stay up late anyway.", she said. "And let me say just one thing about this topic. It doesn't matter what your heritage is as long as you are happy with who you turned out to be." 

Ornstein looked a bit surprised. She didn't even blame him. She normally wasn't the type for this kind of words. Then he smiled at her: "Thanks Ciaran, I'll keep that in mind." He stood up and started to collect his belongings. Ciaran looked at the drawing of dog Artorias she still held in her hands. "Can I keep this...?", she asked. 

"Yes, of course.", Ornstein said. "Good night, Ciaran." 

"Good night, Ornstein. And thanks..." This time a genuine smile had formed under her mask.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lately I was thinking about exploring Ciaran more so this chapter is written in her POV for once. I like to think that she is a night owl and often makes snarky comments.


	7. The Pretense (Smoughstein)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ornstein would never admit that he enjoys being carried around by his tall boyfriend. What a good thing he found an excuse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did anyone ask for Smoughstein being cute? No? Whatever, here they are being cute anyway.

Ow, that had hurt. Ornstein had tried to make his entrance from the balcony into the great hall more fancy. He had been trying out that somersault move Artorias liked to include into his fighting style. And while it worked out just fine on the ground, when he tried it from the balcony above he messed up the landing and twisted his ankle. Smough was at his side in mere seconds.

„Did you get hurt?“, he asked, looking concerned. 

„It's nothing serious, I think I only twisted my ankle.“, Ornstein answered and tried to get up to see if he could strain the foot. But before he even had managed to pull himself up, Smough had picked him up despite him being in full armour. 

“It's about time to end the shift for today anyway, so let's take a look at this foot.”, Smough said and carried Ornstein into the room they used to hang out, laying him down on a bench they had made more comfortable with lots of cushions. Smough then helped Ornstein out of his armour and took a look at the injury. Ornstein eyed it as well.

“It's only a bit swollen. Like I said, nothing serious, just a sprain.”

“We should still get it treated, it hurts, right?”

“Well yes.”, Ornstein had to admit. “Do you think we should get Gwyndolin?”

“I can take care of minor injuries like this just fine.”, Smough said and left for a brief moment to return with some bandages that he quickly wrapped around the hurt foot to stabilize it: “Normally, this should heal quickly. But take it easy for now, yes? I'll make us some food.” 

Ornstein only nodded as answer and then made himself comfortable while waiting for the food. He didn't say anything about it, but being carried by Smough felt nice. It made him feel safe and secure. But he had trouble admitting it. He always felt like he wasn't allowed to enjoy things like this, even with pretty much no one around anymore. It was embedded to deep in his mindset. 

After they had eaten, the both of them spent some time just cuddling together, when it suddenly got dark outside. “Huh, time to go to bed.”, Ornstein determined. “Do you need help getting there?”, Smough asked. Good question, Ornstein wasn't so sure if he could already walk properly with the sprained ankle. He carefully put both feets on the ground and tried to stand up. Even though he managed to do it, it still hurt. “...may be better if you helped me out...”, Ornstein whispered. “All right then.”, Smough said and picked his boyfriend up. Ornstein just enjoyed the moment and pressed against Smough while being carried. 

The next day Ornstein was the first one to be awake. The foot didn't hurt as much anymore, maybe he could walk by himself now. He untangled himself out of Smough's hug and put some pressure on the injured foot. Still hurt, but he could actually walk with a limb. And that felt like a pity. Maybe, just maybe, he shouldn't tell Smough this yet. So when Smough woke up and asked him if he felt better, Ornstein told him that he was still in too much pain to walk by himself. Smough carried him into the kitchen to cook them breakfast after that and Ornstein enjoyed every single second of it. 

This continued the next day and the days after that. Even though with every single day Ornstein's injury healed up more so that he had barely trouble to walk by himself anymore, he kept asking Smough for help. But on the fifth day Smough had grown suspicous.

“Hasn't your ankle healed yet? Normally it doesn't take that long.”, he asked.

“Well, it still hurts.”, Ornstein answered.

“Really? And why have I seen you walk just fine by yourself?”

Shit! Ornstein should have been more careful! He wasn't aware that Smough had seen him. Avoiding Smough's gaze he tried to explain himself: “I am sorry, Smough. I just...liked it when you carried me.” Actually, now that this confession was out he felt a bit better. 

“Good to know that you at least decided to be honest with me. Because I haven't seen you actually walk. You just told me yourself.”

“What? Smough, that was cheap!”, Ornstein complained. 

“See, doesn't feel good to be lied to, right?” Smough bent down to rough up Ornstein's hair and then leaned in for a hug and a kiss. “If you want to be carried around so badly, why don't you just ask me?”, he said and picked Ornstein up. 

Ornstein, cuddling into the huge arms of his boyfriend at once, smiled at him and said: “I will.”


	8. The Traumatized (Smoughstein)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ornstein just can't word out what he really wants. This is driving Smough mad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After I wrote "The Pretense" I was thinking about a scenario where Ornstein would kept lying to Smough. And because I was searching for a way to write a bit more angsty piece between these two, this happened.

„Why do you keep doing this?“

Ornstein looked small. Well, smaller as usual, for Smough his boyfriend looked small all the time because of his own massive size. A size that made him easily able to pick Ornstein up and carry him around. And Ornstein had kept faking sickness or injury lately to make Smough carry him. Even though Smough had already told him several times if he would want to be carried around, he just needed to ask. 

Ornstein avoided the gaze of his boyfriend, staring at the floor in silence instead. 

„I already told you, I don't mind to pick you up, all you have to do is ask.“, Smough asked. He had started to get mad at Ornstein, finding it hard to keep his calm. It would help if Ornstein would at least talk.

Ornstein still kept his gaze on the floor, but then started to whisper: „... I can't do it...“

„Could you say this again, please? A little louder?“ Smough had barely been able to understand a word and wanted to confirm if he had heard right.

„Because I can't do it!“, Ornstein suddenly shouted at Smough. „I just can't ask. I can't...“

Smough felt physically hurt at this statement. „But why?“, he asked, laying his hands on the shoulders of the dragon slayer. „Don't you trust me?“ 

„Of course I trust you!“, Ornstein immediately said, this time looking into his boyfriends eyes.

“Then why it is so difficult for you to just ask? Why do you think you have to keep lying to me?” At this words, Ornstein pulled back again, avoided his gaze and fell silent once more. “Forget it!”, Smough angrily grumbled and rushed out of the room. He needed to calm down. Why Ornstein was acting like this was out of his mind! He rushed down the corridors of the cathedral, pacing back and forth, growling.

After around ten minutes he stopped. Most of the steam had left his mind now and he started to realize something. Had Ornstein ever worded out that he wanted physical affection?

They had never spoken out that they were a couple, it just had happened one day and they both knew that they were boyfriends now. Ornstein hadn't ever ask to sleep with him in one bed, but simply started to crawl into it and sleeping snuggled up against him. If he wanted to be stroked, he simply gave Smough a little nudge. If he wanted to cuddle he simply came closer to Smough until the executioner understood what he wanted. Even their first time being intimate had been without words, the dragon slayer simply had started to undress him and expected his boyfriend to do the same. It was part of the reasons why Ornstein often reminded Smough of a cat. 

It was all so clear now. Ornstein just hadn't found a way to tell Smough that he wanted to be picked up yet. Because of that he had relied on finding an excuse for it. That was his own special way of telling him that he wanted to be loved. 

Now Smough felt really bad. He just had been mad that Ornstein had felt the need to keep lying to him. He should have realized it sooner. Ornstein was much starving for physical affection, but he felt like he wasn't allowed to ever show this or talk about it aloud. And Ornstein also had this thing where he would just break down mentally, because all this bottled up emotions overflowed. Oh no, what had he done? Smough turned around and rushed back to their room. 

The executioner found his boyfriend huddled in a corner of the room, trembling and sniffling. Great, he had not only managed to make Ornstein having a break down, but he also was crying because of him. Smough wasn't exactly sure how to tackle this. He sat down next to his boyfriend, considering his options. 

While he was still thinking about what he could say, Smough could hear Ornstein speak. “Why do you even want to be together with me? I am such a mess!”, he said, sobbing. 

“What? Don't say something like that, that isn't true.”, Smough said, trying to get a comforting tone into his voice, but it more sounded like he was panicking. What if Ornstein would attempt to do something to himself? Smough often feared that this could happen one day. 

“It is true! I can't even ask you for this. Even though I want it. It just feels so wrong. I am not allowed to want this.” Ornstein brought out, then sobbed a little more. 

It nearly broke Smough's heart in half to see his boyfriend in a state like this. What was he even thinking? He knew how sensible Ornstein was and had gotten mad at him nonetheless. “Ornstein, I came to apologize.”, he said. “I should have noticed it sooner. You were always coming up with a fake reason cause you didn't know how to tell me otherwise.” 

“Still, I have been lying to you. So much that you got mad at me. I shouldn't have done this. I brought this all upon myself.” Ornstein sniffled. 

“Stop this right now!”, Smough said. “I am the reason you are in this state. Please don't blame yourself for it. Besides...”, Smough put his hands around Ornstein's waist and picked him up to place him on his lap. “I think now is a pretty good reason to get picked up, don't you think?”

Ornstein just silently pressed against Smough's chest and sobbed a bit more. Smough gently stroked his boyfriend's back, knowing that this kind of affection normally would help him calm down. After a while, Ornstein mumbled something into his shirt, impossible to make out the words.

“What did you say? I couldn't understand a word, kitten.” 

Ornstein raised his head: “Are you still mad at me?” Interesting, normally he would scold Smough for using this nick name. Smough didn't really use it to tease Ornstein, he just found it fitting for his cat like behaviour.

“I am not mad at you anymore.”, Smough said. 

“So you don't want to break up...?”, Ornstein asked, trembling a bit more.

“What? Ornstein, I have been mad at you because you were lying to me. That doesn't mean that I want to break up. I just want you to be more honest with me. I don't like that you feel the need to lie to me. I would really prefer is this could stop.”

Ornstein pressed his head back against Smough's shirt. “I am sorry.”, he simply said and fell silent. At least his tears had stopped for now. Smough rummaged around for a handkerchief and wiped his boyfriend's wet face after he found one. 

“Hey, what about we find a way for you to tell me that you want to be picked up? I mean, a way in which you don't have to speak it out aloud?”

Ornstein raised his head again and glanced at Smough slighty confused in a way that he had to process what he just had heard, then simply nodded to Smough, giving him a tiny smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ask me if you want to know what Ornstein's way is to tell Smough that he wants to get picked up ^^


	9. Baking Together (Smoughstein)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Ornstein and Smough have nothing better to do, why not trying out to bake cookies found in a recipe book from an old friend?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I used a prompt for this, that just fit really nicely with my headcanon that Artorias is master baker.
> 
> Hope nobody is getting tired of Smoughstein, lately I just was extremely in the mood to write for this pairing

Ornstein and Smough were casually sitting on their bench. There wasn't anything they had to do today., soOrnstein enjoyed just sitting leaned against Smough, his boyfriend made for such a great pillow. He had his legs stretched out across the bench and Smough's arm was laying around his shoulders, allowing for Ornstein to just relax into this boyfriend's frame. But Smough seemed a bit restless. Was he bored? Ornstein could feel that Smough was playing around with his ponytail with his other hand and was sighing a bit. 

“Is there really nothing to do today? Or anywhere we could go?”, Smough suddenly asked. “Anor Londo has been abandoned for a while now.”, Ornstein answered. “It's hard to find a place where there is something going on.” Smough sighed again, twirling Ornstein's ponytail in his hands or at least that was what it felt like. Ornstein wouldn't have a problem just lying there for the rest of the day, he enjoyed this comfortable silence. But it was clear that his boyfriend would like to have some action. An idea suddenly sparked in his mind.

“You know what? Recently I found Artorias book with all the cookies recipe. Do you think we should try baking some?”, he suggested. 

Ornstein was suddenly pulled out of his comfortable position into a very tight hug. “Kitten, I am so proud of you!”, Smough excitedly said.

“Don't call me that.”, Ornstein grumbled. “Uh, proud for what?” He was a little bit confused. 

“You actually came up with an activity yourself.” Smough explained. Now that he said it, most of the time Smough encouraged Ornstein to do stuff or came up with activities. For Ornstein it often was hard to get himself doing things. He didn't even know exactly why. Some day it had all started to feel so pointless... Being together with Smough was one of the things that kept him going.

“Would you release me, please? So I can get the book?”, Ornstein gently asked, still been caught into the hug. “Of course.”, Smough released him so that Ornstein could get the book. 

A short while later Ornstein arrived back at Smough with the book. Together they flipped through the pages. Ornstein once again had to admire Artorias beautiful and pristine handwriting. The recipe book was one of the mementos he had kept when his old friend had deceased. Artorias had loved baking in his free time and often had came up with new cookie recipes. 

“Which one should we try?”, Smough asked. “I am so used to cooking but not really to baking.” Ornstein considered their options as well. He wasn't exactly the greatest cook. His creative talent had always been drawing. Then his eye fell on a recipe that sounded simple enough: “How about this one? Butter cookies. That seems to be easy.” 

Smough read the recipe too. “Yes, that should be doable.”, he said. “I'll go getting the ingredients.” He stood up. Ornstein stood up as well. “And I am going to search Artorias room for some tools. I bet he had something lying around.” 

Artorias room had been left mostly untouched. Even though Ornstein knew that his friend would never come back, he didn't had the heart to throw all this stuff away. And it wasn't like anyone needed that room. Ornstein rummaged around a bit in the cupboards until he found some tools that looked like they could be used for baking. He collected them and made his way to the kitchen where Smough had already brought the ingredients.

“So what is the first step?”, Smough asked. “We need a large bowel.”, Ornstein answered, reading the recipe from the book that had been placed on the table. At first, the butter and the sugar shall be stirred together.” Smough grabbed a whisk: “That sounds like a task for me. I bet this requires some strength.” Ornstein was sure that Artorias surely had had this strength and Smough was strong as well. He watched as the ingredients started to become one. He checked the recipe: “It says it shall be light and fluffy? I am not even surprised that Artorias would write something like this.” “Got it.”, Smough said and continued stirring until the dough was fluffy and looked really soft. “What next?”, Smough wanted to know. 

“The next thing is stirring the egg and the vanilla in it.” Ornstein walked to the counter where the ingredients were laid out. “Let me handle this, I am pretty good at preparing ingredients now.” Even though Smough almost did all the cooking, Ornstein often helped him out with preparing the ingredients. After cracking the egg and cutting open the vanilla beans with a knife, they added it to the mix and Smough got to work again. 

“We need another bowel now.”, Ornstein stated after checking the recipe. “There we shall add the salt to the flour and then stir it under the mixture we already have.” 

Smough continued with the stirring and Ornstein helped out with slowly adding the flour to the mix. After it was done, Ornstein read from the recipe again. “Cover it up and let it rest for an hour.” Smough sighed: “Oh great, back to doing nothing, I guess?” “Come on, it won't be that bad.”, Ornstein said. “How about we take a bath together while we have to wait?” This got Smough's approval and around an hour later the two warriors were standing clean and refreshed in the kitchen again. 

“We need a cookie sheet now.”, Ornstein said. “I think that is something like that.” He pulled out a sheet that would fit perfectly in the oven. A part of him wondered why Artorias had stored that in his room. Maybe he had asked the blacksmith for a special manufacture. “And we also need an icing bag to get the dough onto the sheet. I guess that is it?” He pulled out a strange bag in which the dough certainly could be filled. It was made out of soft leather. He wondered that it wasn't broken after all that years, but that probably could be explained with magic. Things reinforced with magic where holding practically forever. And in Anor Londo there had been enough sorcerers around, so Artorias surely just had asked one to help him out. 

They filled the dough into the strange bag. Smough was really eager to press it onto the sheet, so Ornstein simply watched. He loved to watch Smough cook anyways. After his boyfriend was done, he wanted to know the next step. “They shall go in the oven now. I don't really understand this part, better take a look yourself.”, Ornstein had to admit. He also wasn't eager to fire up the oven, fire sparked bad memories in him. “Let me take a look.”, Smough said and took the book. A short while later the oven was set to the right temperature, the cookies were baking and they were waiting again. 

While they were waiting, they had time to talk a bit. “Artorias was always running around the cathedral and handing them out to everyone.”, Ornstein told Smough. “Oh, I am sorry, I guess you didn't get any...” “It's alright. I rather eat the ones I made with you.”, Smough said, laying an arm around Ornstein's shoulders. “You can continue to tell me about this if you like.” Ornstein continued: “Well, Artorias also liked coming up with new recipes. He knew that I liked to try out new things to eat and I guess he saw it as a challenge to always have a recipe I hadn't tasted yet. Now that I think about it, was that one of our duels...? I bet he won that one! He always had a recipe I hadn't tasted yet!” Smough gave Ornstein a pet on the head and seemed to regret it instantly: “Oh no, I forgot that your hair is still wet.” “You were the one who wanted to wash it.”, Ornstein said with a grin and then continued: “One time Artorias managed to accidentally break my arm. He gave me so many apology cookies at this time. I had to start to share them with the whole cathedral. That wasn't that much of a problem, cause the cookies were very beloved. It just became awkward when me and the master were munching away on some of them and then Lord Gwyn walked by, wanting to know if we had nothing better to do and then asked where he could get the cookies for himself.” Ornstein chuckled at the memory. “Nobody was save from Artorias cookies, really.” The kitchen had started to smell very delightful now. “I'll go see if they are ready.”, Smough said. 

A short while later Smough came back with the hot sheet, setting it down carefully so that it could cool. “They look really tasty.”, Ornstein said after a glance at the cookies. “Yes, I can't wait to taste them.”, Smough said. 

“These aren't Artorias cookies but it was a recipe of him. I bet you will love them.”, Ornstein said.

“I will love them anyway cause I made them with you.”


	10. The Injured (Smoughstein)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summary: The battles with the chosen undead don't always leaves the hellish duo unscathed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, that I came up with another Smoughstein piece. Have been on a roll with this pairing lately. Well, hope you enjoy.

Ornstein awoke in his bed, confused. When exactly had he got to sleep? He couldn't remember. He also couldn't remember that he had put his night shirt on or untied his ponytail. And why wasn't Smough laying next to him? He tried to recall the last thing that he remembered. And that was... passing out. Oh, that explained why he didn't remember having gone to bed. The rest of the memories now came back too. 

Another Undead had made it to them and they had to put up a fight against them. This one hadn't been bad and managed to keep them on their toes. At the end, they had managed to get a good hit at Ornstein which had hurt quite a bit, but he had managed to take the undead out after that when their guard was down. He must have been passed out shortly after that, mainly of the exhaustion and the shock. Ornstein guessed that the Undead had hollowed out afterwards, because Smough had brought him into bed instead of waking him up and giving him a divine blessing to continue the fight. Or had Smough chosen to pick up the fight on his own? That thought legitimately scared Ornstein. He noticed that it was already dark outside. That could mean two things, either that everything was fine and Gwyndolin had gone to sleep or that the Undead had made it and decided to attack the illusion of Princess Gwyverene. Gwyndolin would see this as an act of blasphemy and would drop all illusions at once would this happen. With a bad feeling in his chest, Ornstein sat himself up and regretted the sudden motion cause that send some pain through his left shoulder. 

Right, that was where he had been hit. The wound didn't feel that bad. It probably was one of these wounds which refused to stop bleeding until tended to. He didn't think it would scar. His left shoulder was already pretty badly burn scarred by dragon fire anyway. Smough had bandaged the wound, Ornstein could feel it under his night shirt. It would make his movement stiff for a few days, but would probably also heal in this time. 

Now that Ornstein had checked his injury out, he realized that Smough was sitting next to the bed, asleep with his head on it. Oh, that was such a relief, the undead had indeed hollowed out then. Had Smough kept watch over him until he felt asleep from the exhaustion himself? That was so sweet. Ornstein crawled closer to his sleeping boyfriend and just watched him for a while. Normally he was snuggled up against Smough in the night and couldn't get a clear look at his face. He looked oddly peaceful while sleeping, even in that uncomfortable position. Ornstein leaned down to kiss his boyfriend, hoping that it would gently wake him. Smough hadn't joined him in bed, clearly because he was taking his injury in consideration. Now that Ornstein was awake, he didn't want to go back to sleep alone and also didn't want to get Smough sore in the morning. After a little while, the executioner opened his eyes.

“Oh, you are awake. How are you feeling?”, he asked.

“That was what I wanted to ask you. This position really looked uncomfortable.”, Ornstein answered, but then told Smough anyway: “It hurts a bit, but it isn't that bad. Thanks for patching me up, as always.” A lot of the Undead seemed to try to take him out first which ended with him getting hurt more often. Ornstein wasn't too surprised with this. He was written into history books after all and everyone who read them would see the greater threat into him. And he had to admit, he was far more experienced and skilled in fighting than Smough, so that was a smart decision. 

“That is good to hear.”, Smough smiled at him. “You scared me when you suddenly fainted. Good thing that Undead didn't came back. I guess they were so frustrated at their failure that they went hollow.”

“Probably.”, Ornstein said. “Don't you want to come into bed with me? When you sleep like this all night you only will get sore. And I am not that good at giving massages like you.” Ornstein made some more room on the bed so Smough could join him. 

Smough didn't waste any time to come join him into the bed. Ornstein got ready for his usual snuggled up position against his boyfriend, but when the former laid his arms around him in the usual hug, he winced in pain. “Ow, that hurt.”, he said. “Oh no, I am sorry.”, Smough said. “Maybe we shouldn't sleep that close to each other today?” Ornstein didn't like that suggestion at all. He slept much better when he could snuggle against his boyfriend. This stupid injury wouldn't take this away. 

“We just have to find a position in which it works.”, he said, determined that he would get a good night's sleep tonight. 

So, the usual position, lying on his right side, snuggled up against Smough while he hugged him, didn't work. Switching sides didn't work either, cause that put far too much pressure on the injury. Lying on the back also wasn't a good idea. And when he would lie on his stomach, he wouldn't be able to snuggle up to Smough at all. They tried a few other things too, but it was to no use. Ornstein sighed: “That is stupid. Why can't I find a comfortable position?” 

“We just have to find a compromise.”, Smough said. “Wouldn't it work when you can snuggle up against me but I am not hugging you?” 

“But I would like to be hugged.”, Ornstein grumbled. 

Smough laid on his back and spread out his arm. “Why not try laying into the crook while snuggling up? That is almost a hug.”

Ornstein considered that option: “That could work...”

A short while later they had taken in the new position and it really was comfortable enough for Ornstein to not be in pain. “This will work.”, he mumbled, already falling asleep. “Good night, Smough. Love you.” 

“Love you too, kitten.”, Smough said before they both fell into a deep slumper, ready to wake up refreshed the next morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The way Ornstein snuggles up against Smough in the end is based from my actual cat, who loves to sleep like this.


	11. The Bone Dust (Smoughstein)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ornstein has to face a truth he doesn't like.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There was some talk about Smough's cannibalism yesterday on my tumblr and this piece sparked to life. I actually thought about it a while longer, because just like Ornstein in this piece, I as a writer couldn't stop deny this part of Smough's character. So this is my take on it. Tell me what you think.

“Ornstein, would you hand me the thyme?”

“Sure.”, the dragon slayer was reduced to the kitchen helper now, helping out Smough cooking their dinner. He wandered to the shelf where Smough kept all his seasonings in little bottles. He still wasn't good at recognizing them by looks alone so he had to look at the labels Smough had put on them. 

After he had found the thyme, he noticed a bottle with some strange dusty powder in it. Huh, he hadn't seen that seasoning ever before. Curiously Ornstein took the bottle and read the label, only to freeze in place for a while when he read “Bone Dust” on it. 

“What is taking so long, Ornstein?”, Smough wanted to know. 

Ornstein unfroze: “I am coming.” He walked over to Smough, handed him the thyme and waited for the right moment to confront him about the bone dust bottle he had found. The moment Smough had set the lid on the pot to let it cook, Ornstein pulled out the battle and showed it Smough: “Would you care to explain me that?”

Smough went really pale upon seeing the bone dust bottle: “Oh no, Ornstein, you are misunderstanding this. I have never put this into your food, I swear.”

Ornstein looked at the bottle in disgust: “But... you have eaten that, right? Why else should you have this around?”

“Well, yes... but why should that bother you? Haven't I already told you about the traditions of my village and that eating the remains of the dead is our way of not letting their death go to waste?”

Ornstein shook his head: “It shouldn't bother me? I am the guy who kisses you by the way. So yes, it bothers me very much.”

He looked down at the bottle, then at Smough: “I thought you had changed...”

Smough grew really angry: “Are you really saying that? After all that shit you have put me through!?”

Someone could have stabbed Ornstein's heart as well, so much did these words hurt. He felt a mix of confusion and anger, but mostly sadness. He looked down on the floor, trying very hard not to break down right here and then.

“So this is how you really think about me.”, he said in a choked voice, then turned around and rushed out of the room. 

“Ornstein, wait.”, Smough called, but his boyfriend was already out of sight. Smough had hated that look of digust on his face. The look he had gotten far too often for his cannibalistic behaviour. He had explained the whole situation to Ornstein and it seemed like the dragon slayer had understood him, but this felt like a setback. And now Smough still saw the shocked look on Ornstein's face the moment he had called him out for his mental problems. 

But this time Smough was sure of one thing, he had done enough sugar coating. He had to talk to Ornstein and his boyfriend had to face the truth. The executioner had an idea where he could have run off too and was on his way.

Shortly afterwards he was standing before Ornstein's old room. Ornstein rarely used it anymore, cause they shared a room now. But Smough knew he was in there, cause Ornstein had put his personal fog gate up. That was a clear sign at how upset the dragon slayer was if he didn't even want his boyfriend to enter the room. Smough had to talk to him through the fog gate then. He raised his voice: “Ornstein, we need to talk.”

Ornstein heard Smough's voice from beyond the fog gate. He really didn't want to talk.

“Go away.”, he said. “I know when I am not required.”

“I won't. I know you well enough by now and I am sure you are having one of your mental breakdowns right now.”, came the executioner's voice through the fog gate.

That was true, Ornstein had broke down the moment he had put up the fog gate. He was shivering, breathing heavily and could feel tears streaming down his cheeks. He just wanted to be alone. Why didn't Smough understand this?

“Just leave me alone.”, he murmured. “Like everyone did. I never deserved to be happy. How could I even think it was possible?” He put his hands over his face, sobbing a bit. 

“See and that is the problem.”, Smough said. “Do you think I like seeing you putting down like that? Ornstein, I love you, but things like that... are difficult to handle. I have to take awful care of what I say to you. You are often barely able to get out of bed and it worries me to no end. I hate seeing when you have one of those breakdowns. I give my very best to help you with it and I was hoping that you would get over it, but I had to accept that this a part of you. A part I don't like, but upon entering this relationship I knew that I had to take the bad things with the good things.”

Ornstein could hear Smough taking a deep breath: “And that applies to you too. There may be things about me that you don't like or even despise. But these are things that make me myself. I just ask of you to accept these things, even if you think they are flaws. How I did with you.”

Ornstein had stopped shivering when Smough had said this words. But he wasn't able to answer right now. “Please give me some time... to think.”, he requested. 

“I will keep the food warm and wait till you are ready.”, the executioner's voice came a last time through the fog gate and then Ornstein could hear him walk away.

Ornstein realized that he still had the bone dust bottle in his hands. He stared at it. This was a part of Smough. A part of Smough he had known about but denied all this time. The words of the executioner had left some impact on him. He had to take the good with the bad... 

Had Ornstein only fallen in love with Smough because it had made him feel better? Had he only seen the things he liked at Smough but always denied the ones he didn't want to face? And that after he had showed Smough his true self, the broken shell of the man who they once had called the dragon slayer. And Smough did so much to help Ornstein feel better about himself. He always cheered him up when he was sad, he had always encouraging words for him and he was always there if he had a mental breakdown. Ornstein had never questioned how Smough felt about this. Had he ever tried to truly understand his boyfriend? Looking at the bone dust bottle, Ornstein needed to make a decision. 

Around an hour later, Ornstein was standing in the door frame of the kitchen. Smough was sitting on the table, looking angry and sad at the same time. Ornstein decided to make the first step and approached his boyfriend: “Smough?”

Smough looked up upon hearing Ornstein's voice: “Oh, you came back.”

Ornstein took a deep breath before talking: “I am here to apologize. Without you, I would live in a mess. I wouldn't eat right. I wouldn't take care of myself. I would just give up. But you are always there and make me... not give up. But I always took this for granted. I never thought about your feelings. And because of that...”

He held out the bone dust bottle to Smough: “I want to try it.”

Smough looked from the bottle to Ornstein and back with a very confused look on his face. Then he registered: “Wait, what? Ornstein, you don't have to do this. I am totally fine with you understanding the point I was trying to make.”

“I want to.”, Ornstein said. “I want to try and understand you better. This is a part of you, right? Please. Let me try it.”

“You really sure about this?”, Smough asked and took the bone dust from Ornstein. “Well, give me a moment to prepare your food with it.” 

Ornstein sat down at the table, waiting. Was he really going to do this? No, no second thoughts. He had decided to try it out. He needed to do this. He needed to prove to himself that his love for Smough was real and not just self indulgent. 

It didn't take long and the plate was standing before Ornstein. He slowly took up the spoon. There was no turning back now. He put it into the meal and swallowed it so quickly that he couldn't even taste it. Fine, the next one should be slower. He took another deep breath and tasted the entirety of the meal this time. And it didn't even taste bad. Smough's cooking was great as usual. And he had to admit, the seasoning kind of gave it an extra kick... He took a few more bites, starting to enjoy the meal until his conscience kicked back in and he realized what he was eating right now.

A short while later Ornstein had puked out all the food he eaten for now. Smough must have seen this coming, cause he had handed Ornstein a bucket to throw up into the moment it happened. 

“I am sorry.”, Ornstein said. “I tried, but I guess I wasn't ready for it.”

“Ornstein, do you know how much it meant to me that you even wanted to try it out?”, Smough said, stroking his boyfriend's back. “That was all what I wanted from you. You don't have to like this side of me, I just want you to accept it.”

Smough handed his boyfriend some water so that he could clean out the bad taste of his mouth. 

“I understand what you wanted to say, Smough.”, Ornstein said. “And I know that you have to take the good and the bad things that come with your partner in a relationship. To be honest, I did this mainly for you, but I also wanted to prove something to myself.”

Ornstein looked to the side before continuing: “It was a really scary thought, because of that I felt like I just had to try it for myself.” 

“And you did well.”, Smough picked his boyfriend up to hug him tightly. 

“And you know that, Smough?”, Ornstein said, snuggling into his embrace. “There is another thing we could do.”

“And that would be?”, the executioner wanted to know.

Ornstein grinned a little at his boyfriend: “Playing pretend.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I never thought once in my life that I had to tag something with cannibalism.
> 
> I commissioned tumblr user heliicon with drawing a scene from this fic which you can find here: https://heliicon.tumblr.com/post/176484847824/finished-commission-for-mrslittletall-of-a-scene 
> 
> Please give them some support. I absolutely love how it turned out.


	12. Soul Theory

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ornstein and Artorias explain the nature of souls to some fresh silver knights

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is my headcanon about souls, but I found it boring to just write a theory about it, so I decided to let Artorias and Ornstein explain it. Enjoy.

“I am dragon slayer Ornstein, your future captain and I am here today to teach you about soul theory.” 

Ornstein inspected the fresh batch of silver knights that had made it through the trials. Some of them were murmuring. He could make something out along the lines of: “The captain himself is giving this lesson?”

“Of course, there is more to being a captain than just giving orders.”, Ornstein said while looking in the talkers direction. “Now I would prefer for you to pay attention, cause I don't want to say everything twice. I suppose you are all familiar with the four great souls?”

A shy hand was raised: “Actually... how was that again...?”

“What do they even teach you in school today?”, Ornstein asked and picked up some chalk to write on the board. 

“So, there are four great souls who all have been picked up by different hosts. There is the soul of fire, which was picked up by our Lord Gwyn.” He added a quick picture of Gwyn to the board and continued: “We also have the soul of life and the soul of death. These belong to the Witch of Izalith and Gravelord Nito, who both are our allies.” He added respective pictures of them too. “And finally there is the dark soul who was picked up by... uh...” 

By whom exactly? He couldn't remember. Did they even play a role in the war? Lord Gwyn was obvious. The witch of Izalith and her daughters had helped out with pyromancy and Nito had unleashed death and miasma. Ornstein counted them on his fingers, just to be sure. Only three. The first appearance in front of the new silver knights and he already was stuck. Luckily, he saw Artorias walking by. He called out to him: “Artorias, could you come here for a moment?”

The wolf knight strolled over to him: “What is it? Ah, teaching soul theory? Was it really necessary to add pictures of the soul bearers? They are really cute though.” Ornstein lowered his voice to a whisper: “Please help me out, Artorias. Who exactly picked up the dark souls?”

“What? But Ornstein, you were there!”, Artorias shouted far too loud. He could hear some of the silver knights snicker. “So were you.”, he said still whispering. “Please help me out, I can only remember Lord Gwyn, the witch of Izalith and Gravelord Nito.” 

“Oh yes, the bearers of the soul of fire, life and death. Let's see, the dark soul belongs to...” Artorias stopped. “Um...” He seemed to consider it for a moment. Ornstein could hear some of the silver knights talk again: “Wait, the captain was part of the war? Wasn't that hundreds of year ago? How old is he?”

“232, maybe a few years older or younger, I lost count.”, Ornstein casually answered which prompted the silver knights to take shelter behind their desks. 

“I counted, it is 236 actually.”, Artorias fell in. “Wait, where were we? Ah yes... the dark soul.” After a while, he gave up: “I am sorry, I can't remember. I guess they didn't play a role in the war and were never introduced to us.” 

“Well, thanks anyway.”, Ornstein said. “But what we know about the dark soul, all humans are descendants of it. Here in Anor Londo there aren't many humans around, but we get to this later.” 

“Now to the nature of souls.”, Ornstein continued the lecture. “Everyone of us is having a soul inside them. It may even happen that they linger around after death. It is unknown why this happens, but it looks like this.” Ornstein pulled out a soul from under the desk, showing the white lingering thing around. Artorias was taken aback: “You are carrying actual souls around for this lectures? Where did you get these?” 

“Don't worry, Artorias. These are from the executioner.” Ornstein and Smough, the executioner, hated each other, but he was a great source for souls from the executed prisoners. Ornstein had to listen to a lot of teasing when he went down there and asked for another one, but it wasn't like he could just go out thereand kill someone to snatch their soul. 

“That astonishes me even more!”, Artorias said. “You are going down there on your own free will?” 

“Would you please let us continue the lesson, Artorias?”, Ornstein said, growing annoyed. Why had the wolf knight even decided to stay? Maybe he wanted to stay around if Ornstein got stuck again. 

“Anyway, before Artorias interrupted us.”, he glared at his friend even though Artorias could not see it cause Ornstein wore his helmet. “If you come upon one of these, you can consume it. Like this.” Ornstein popped the soul for demonstration and could feel how the power got added to his own. “The power of the soul will get added to your own soul. But it not only happens if you pop a soul. Every time you kill one of your foes their soul power will be added to your own. This can lead to you growing larger than you are used too.” 

One of the silver knights raised their hand. “Yes, what is your question?”, Ornstein demanded.

“Is that the reason you and Sir Artorias are so big?”, they wanted to know. 

“Well, it is a bit different for us.”, Ornstein said and then explained: “Both me and Artorias have a part of Lord's Gwyn soul of fire.” 

“How did this work? Did you pop it like you showed to us recently?” 

Ornstein shook his head and Artorias took up the word: “No, it worked different. We used that soul part to fuse with our own soul.”

“I remember how strange this felt.”, Ornstein reminisced. “It felt like....” 

“Like you just drank far too hot soup.”, Artorias casually stated. 

“I wanted to say like you had a hot, burning feeling in your chest.”

“Exactly.” 

Ornstein could hear some of the fresh knights chuckle again. “I really thought they were far more professional.”, he could hear one of them say and the answer: “I know, right?”

“I heard that. You two can come talk to me once the lesson is over.”, he said coldly and pointed at the chatters, who looked very small after this announcement. 

Artorias was amazed: “You are hearing everything.” 

“I gave lectures like this for over hundred years now. I had enough time to learn it.”, Ornstein said not without a little pride. 

“So, you silver knights here won't be in danger to grow as big as we are, but you can expect to grow a bit the more souls you absorb. There is also a technique that allows you to stop your growth, but it is really hard to master. The only one who managed to master it at once, was Ciaran.” Artorias nodded and added: “Because of her duties as an assassin she felt she shouldn't be gigantic and mastered that skill extremely quickly. But now she often seems to be upset that she is so small.”

“Well, she is only around the size of a human. That is really small.”, Ornstein said. Humans rarely grew larger than 1,50 m and him and Artorias had started out as much larger sizes before their soul power had given them their final height. 

“And one last thing about this. Your growth will also scale from your actual height. So, if someone who is larger than you acquires the same amount of soul power, the both of you will still have different heights.”, Ornstein explained. “Anyway, it is even possible for anyone of you to gain a special soul. The more powerful you are, the more likely it is that you gain a special soul. But these are really rare, so we can't show one of them around.”

“But they look a bit different, like they are a shining light.”, Artorias said. “And you can use them to recreate weapons. It seems like the soul still remembers the most used weapon of their owner. Our giant blacksmith here knows a way to do this. So should you ever come upon a special soul, bring it to him.”

“A thing like this is possible?”, one of the silver knights asked.

“Yes, everything Artorias just said is true. For example, should I die for whatever reason and you get your hand on my soul, you could use it to recreate the dragon slayer spear.” 

The silver knights were murmuring again, amazed by this discovery. “But it is clear, that you can't go around and just slay people for their weapons. Besides, most of the special soul bearers are really really strong. You are more likely to lose your life instead.”, Ornstein explained casually which shut the silver knights down instantly.

“And now we have to talk about the specialty of humans.” 

“You mean the dark sign.”, Artorias said. 

“Exactly. It is possible for humans to be cursed by the dark sign. That means they are undead. And that means, they can't be killed. Well, they can, but they will return after a while. The danger comes from them turning hollow. That is a state, where they lose their mind and attack everything on sight.”

“You may be aware of the undead asylum”, Artorias added when Ornstein stopped to catch his breath.

“Every undead has to be sent there. So that means, undead have to be captured. It is fine if you ask us for help if you encounter an undead, they aren't easy foes. And the nature of souls with undead is like this...”

“Oh, let me explain this part, please.”, Artorias requested. 

“Fine, go on.”

“We told you about growth because of soul power. But the moment a human turns undead, they stop growing regardless of how many souls they gathered. The size of an undead is a good indicator how strong they were when they were alive, but you should be wary of even small undead. They can be much stronger than they look like.” 

“We don't know why this is the case.”, Ornstein explained further. “But in theory, the souls try to fill out the hollowing process the undead go through.” 

He stopped for a brief while to let the silver knights take in the information before taking up the word again.

“So that was everything for today. Does anyone have some more questions?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you have further questions, just ask. Maybe I'll get into character and answer them.


	13. The Payback (Smoughstein)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ornstein keeps stealing Smough's clothes. It is time for a payback.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was actually inspired from a writing prompt taken from http://otp-imagines-cult.tumblr.com/. It fit so perfectly cause of the size difference of that ship. Enjoy.

After the bone dust incident Ornstein had spent some time thinking and progressing what his boyfriend had told him. How hard it often was for Smough to deal with his mental state, the times he didn't feel like he wanted to get up at all or the times he would talk himself down while reflecting on all his past failures. He wanted to get better, not only for the sake of his boyfriend, but also for his own. The problem was, this was a really hard thing to do for him. 

The first days Ornstein had become extremely clingy to Smough, feeling that if he wouldn't leave the side of him, he wouldn't even be able to slip back into that negative attitude. Of course, that hadn't worked. After a while Smough had told him very clearly that him being so clingy distracted him and that he was barely able to do stuff when Ornstein would hug his arm all the time. Ornstein had also to admit that this had been the wrong approach. He knew that his boyfriend couldn't be there for him all the time. 

Luckily, Ornstein had found another way to find comfort. He would wear Smough's clothes. He had already done that earlier, but normally Smough would claim his clothes back sooner or later. So Ornstein had snatched a tunic every time they would doing the laundry and had hid them in their room so he could wear them whenever he wanted. Of course Smough would ultimately see him wearing the clothes and claim them back, but when it was time for the next laundry, Ornstein would just snatch another one and add it to pile in he hiding place. He also had agreed with Smough that he would be in charge of cleaning their room for now. That wasn't so bad, usually he only had to tidy up and clean it when it was getting to dirty. So he wasn't in danger that Smough would actually find the clothes he had stowed away. 

Of course Smough started to miss his clothes after a while and asked out Ornstein about it, who simply denied that he knew anything about this. Ornstein was feeling that a bit dishonesty about this subject wouldn't be so bad, especially if it could make him get better. After all, Smough hadn't told him anything about the bone dust bottle either. But Ornstein made sure not to take more than three pieces at a time, so that his boyfriend wouldn't grow to suspecting. That worked out just fine, since the day Ornstein woke up and had a slight fever. 

Ornstein didn't want to stay in bed, he wasn't even feeling that bad, but Smough was very clear that he would not tolerate him doing anything demanding today. And of course their room was about to become a mess. Smough had gone to clean it up while Ornstein was lying around on the bench (that was made more comfortable with a dozen pillows) and a blanket and quietly hoping that Smough wouldn't find his hiding place for the clothes.

Actually, Ornstein was wearing Smough's clothes right at the moment too, but this time Smough hadn't said anything. It was common for Ornstein to wearing his boyfriend clothes when he was sick and Ornstein would only be stubborn about it if he tried to take them away. Well, if Smough would find out, he probably would call him out for it. Ornstein decided to just tell him the truth if that would happen.

So when Smough entered the room, it came as a real surprise for Ornstein how the executioner looked. He apparently had tried to put on Ornstein's clothes which were far too small for him. They barely fit, left his stomach completely uncovered, despite being long sleeved looked more like a shirt and seemed like they would rip apart any moment. Ornstein just stared at his boyfriend with his mouth staying open for a bit and then burst into a hearty laughter. 

“See, that is how it feels when someone steals your clothes.”, Smough exclaimed and then added: “Ornstein? I think that is the first time I actually heard you laugh... Like, real genuine laughing...”

The ridiculousness of how Smough looked had made Ornstein laugh so hard that he was in tears and catching his breath. This was just too funny. Smough came over to him and said: “I mean, I am glad that you are able to laugh so wholeheartedly, but you shouldn't forget to breath...”

Ornstein had just managed to calm down a little from his burst of laughter, but one look at the executioner just made it return. “Smough, if this goes on any longer I am gonna wet myself.”, he managed to bring out between chuckles. 

“Please don't, I am going to change.”, Smough said and left the room in a hurry. In the time he was gone Ornstein managed to mostly calm down, but even the thought of his sight made him chuckle again. He probably could laugh about this even a month later. No, he would probably laugh about this forever. He had laughed so much that his vision was blurry of tears and he was short on breath. Maybe he should also visit the bathroom before the implied accident had a chance to happen. Before he could stand up though, Smough came back into the room, changed in his usual attire. 

“You know, this was supposed to be a payback because you kept stealing my clothes.”, he said. 

“I am sorry. I kept doing it because I feel better when I wear them. It's becoming easier for me to do stuff when I have your scent around.”, Ornstein explained. 

“Well, I must admit, I was a bit mad at you at first. That was why I put on your stuff. To show you how this felt. But I guess it backfired cause it made you incredibly happy.”

“I can't even remember when I had to laugh that much the last time.”, Ornstein considered. “It was probably something Artorias did.”

“I even think that was the first time I've seen you laugh like this. I didn't even know you were capable of it. So, maybe my payback backfired, but I got a good thing out of it. The rare sight and sound of my boyfriend being genuinely happy.” 

He snuggled Ornstein: “Now you only need to become healthy again.”

While being embraced by Smough, Ornstein had to think about the sight of him earlier again and burst out into laughter again, muffled a bit cause his face was pressed against the chest of his boyfriend. 

“But for now I would like you to stop laughing for the time. I don't want to wash all that pillows!” 

“Don't worry, I will go to the bathroom now.”, Ornstein said and untangled himself from the embrace to stand up. “You could do me a favour and get me some paper and my pencil. I have to draw that!” 

“You probably will laugh about this even tomorrow, right?”, the executioner asked while Ornstein was already on his way. He briefly stopped, turned around to face his boyfriend and answered:

“I will laugh about this forever.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So what was the last thing you had to laugh about so much that you were in tears? For me, it was seeing that Godzilla victory dance in one of Brandon's Cult Movie Reviews.


	14. The Craving (Smoughstein)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ornstein seems to have a weird eating habit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was totally inspired by http://baraspoots.tumblr.com/ headcanon. This blog is very nsfw, so proceed with care.
> 
> On Youtube, some guys did a re-reading of that chapter: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yV3DoUHsdXA  
> Glad that I could entertain you with my weirdness xD

Smough woke up in the middle of the night and something felt not right. He recognized right away what was missing. Normally, Ornstein would snuggle with him while sleeping, but his boyfriend was missing. 

After a short moment of concern, Smough relaxed. Ornstein probably just had to use the privy and would come back soon. But after a good while had passed and Ornstein still hadn't come back, Smough started to worry. He got up and intended to search for his boyfriend. 

The privy was the first thing Smough checked, cause it was possible that Ornstein wouldn't feel well and simply wasn't able to leave it, but it was unoccupied. What were the other places Ornstein often would go...? Smough checked in Ornstein's room, the public bath room and the old conference room of the knights but the dragon slayer was nowhere to be found. 

Confused and worried the executioner continued walking through the hallway, thinking about other places his boyfriend could have wandered off to in the night. A horrible suspicion also rose into him, but he truly hoped that this wouldn't be the case. As he was walking through the hallways without a goal he heard some strange noises from the great hall. 

Smough followed the noise to the great hall, descended the stairs to it and was met with the strange sight of Ornstein who was in the process of eating meat from a huge boar which was roasted whole. Dumbfounded, he just stared at this scene before saying:

“Ornstein, what in the world...?”

Ornstein was turning around, mouth apparently still full, looking at Smough, then at his meal, then swallowing and then saying: “I... I can explain this!”

“I don't know what is stranger about this! Seeing you eat a huge pile of meat or that you are doing it with just your underwear on!”, Smough shouted. 

“I don't want my clothes to get dirty when I do this... It is easier to clean up myself.”, Ornstein said. 

“Wait, you aren't doing this the first time?”, Smough was thunderstruck. 

“Like I said, I can explain.”, Ornstein said. 

“Then would you care to explain already? I hardly can believe my eyes.”, the executioner demanded. 

“Well, alright... Sometimes... I just have this cravings of eating lots of meat directly from the source. I then go into the nearby woods, hunt a prey and roast it with my lightning abilities.”, Ornstein explained. 

“I haven't said anything about it, cause that is so weird.”, he added.

Smough came closer to Ornstein, noticing the mess that Ornstein had made, even the dragon slayer himself was covered into meat juice, but that was no surprise regarding the way he was eating. 

“Ornstein, I am the last person who would judge you because of weird eating habits.”, Smough said. “Actually, I am surprised but also glad. That we both have some eating habits that others would consider to be strange.” 

Smough would have like to hug his boyfriend, but then he would had to change into a new night shirt, so he did something else and licked some of the meat juice of the naked skin of Ornstein. He could feel him shudder because of this. Smough spend a while to taste it. 

“You know, this could be so much better.”, he said. “With the right seasonings and herbs we could make a nice marinade which would compliment the meat and would make the taste at least ten times better.” Smough looked at Ornstein's “prey”. “Also, did you just roast the whole thing? You should take out the organs first, these can be used for further cooking. It is such a waste of good food otherwise.”

He heard Ornstein chuckle at this. “This is so you, trying to get the best taste out of it.”, he said. 

“By the way, you can't be able to eat all of this by yourself? Where do you put the rest?”, Smough asked. 

“Most of the time, I get it to Sif.”, Ornstein said. “Sometimes the hydra in the basin gets some of this stuff too.” 

“Well, at least you don't let it go to waste.”, Smough said. The executioner suddenly had a thought he had to share. 

“Do you think this whole thing has to do with your dragon blood?”, he asked. 

“Smough, that was just a thing Artorias theorized, we still don't know if that is true.”, Ornstein dismissed the question, but then said: “Maybe...” 

“Don't worry, I won't ask further about this if it makes you uncomfortable.”, Smough said. “How about I help you out with eating this one and the next time you get your cravings... let's prepare it together.”

Ornstein smiled at him: “That would be a pleasure.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This has to be weirdest thing I have ever written...


	15. The Reunion (Smoughstein)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two lovers who thought they would never see each other again have another chance of meeting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by Nightmaredaisy

Ornstein slowly walks towards the armoured figure he had noticed out of the corner of his eye. Knees feeling weak, he hardly can believe it. “Smough?”, he asks. No, that can't be true. He had seen Smough's dead body. But this figure in front of him looks so much like him. 

Smough silently extends a hand and touches Ornstein as if he has to make sure the man in front of him is real. The next thing Ornstein knows is that he is hugging Smough, their metal armour clanking against each other, tears streaming down his face. He can feel Smough reciprocate the hug, running his fingers trough his ponytail, pulling him closer. A voice in the back of his mind is whispering: “Time is convoluted in Lordran. This isn't real. He can't be the one you lost.” But Ornstein doesn't care. Sobbing, he repeats the same words again and again: “I am sorry.” 

He can hear Smough whispering something into his ear, but he can barely make it out through the fog his thoughts have become. It feels like he tries to comfort him. “I can hear you crying too.”, Ornstein mumbles, which prompts Smough to answer: “I thought I would never see you again...”

The both of them stay silently in the hug. There is so much Ornstein would like to say or would like to hear, but he knows the truth. He opens his mouth to speak. “You are not my Smough.”, he says. “And I am not your Ornstein.”

“Yes...”, Smough just quietly says. “I know this...”

“Can we still stay like this?”, Ornstein wants to know. Smough pulls him even closer into the hug, stroking his back. Ornstein just leaves his head lying on the large chest of his boyfriend. In the back of his head he knows what happened here. Time is indeed convoluted in Lordran. He had encountered a link with a Smough who clearly had lost his Ornstein. Like Ornstein had lost his Smough. 

They stay like this until the link between them starts to weaken. Ornstein doesn't want to let go but ultimately the figure of Smough vanishes and Ornstein hits the ground without the support of the hug. He slowly gets back up, looking at the spot where Smough had been. 

He hadn't even dreamed about meeting Smough again and he perfectly knows that one day he had to move on and accept his death. But he also knows that this day isn't today.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I made myself cry writing this.
> 
> This fic had some kind of aftermath in my head and I commissioned the very person who inspired that fic, tumblr user nightmaredaisy, to draw it out. The finished commission can be seen here: http://nightmaredaisy.tumblr.com/post/178414016245/painting-commission-for-mrslittletall-based-on
> 
> And I absolutely love it! It turned out so stunning! It is exactly the thing I had in my mind for this aftermath. Please check his stuff out and consider supporting him.


	16. The Haircut

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Artorias accidentally manages to give Ornstein a haircut.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was thinking about how my Ornstein would look like with short hair, but he just don't want it to get cut. So I gave him an accidental haircut instead.

It had to be the biggest coincidence. During silver knight training, Ornstein had bowed down to pick something off the floor and the moment he rose up again, he could feel the tip of a great sword and a slight wind in his neck, making him instinctively dodge an inch. Heart pounding, he slowly turned around.

“Ornstein, I am so sorry, are you hurt?”, he could hear Artorias say. “I stumbled while showing a move and didn't see you there.”

“Artorias, that was dangerous! Pay better attention next time!”, Ornstein scolded his friend but Artorias was just looking at the floor mouth agape. Confused Ornstein followed his gaze to see a red thing on the ground. “Is that blood? Am I bleeding?”, he said concerned, but after a closer look he realized something: “That looks like hair...”

Ornstein raised a hand to feel for his ponytail. That surely couldn't be his hair. It still was there, right? But his hand couldn't find it. Ornstein started to slightly panic. His ponytail was gone. So the hair on the ground was really his hair. 

“I am so sorry, Ornstein.”, Artorias mumbled. 

“What... what did you do?”, Ornstein brought out and then made a dash to his room. 

Upon having arrived there and locking the door behind him, he removed his helmet and looked into the mirror to see the complete damage. Artorias sword had managed to cut off most of his hair, his entire ponytail was gone, only leaving the bangs and the sad stump that was still hold together by the hairband. Ornstein took a few steps back and fell down in front of the bed, sitting leaned against it, shivering and starting to sob. 

Artorias had picked up the cut off ponytail and made a dash to Ornstein's room where he suspected the knight only to almost run over Ciaran on his way there. After explaining the situation and getting an “Oh dear.” from the assassin, the both of them were standing in front of a locked door. 

Artorias knocked: “Ornstein? Are you alright? I really didn't want to cut your hair. I am sorry.”

“Go away.”, Ornstein answered behind the door, sniffling. “I don't want to see you. You ruined my look. I had this ponytail for a hundred years!” 

“Is he crying over this?”, Ciaran whispered. “I didn't know his hair was so important for him.”

“But it will grow back, right?”, Artorias tried to come through to Ornstein. 

“It will take years to grow so long again!”

Artorias flinched at the answer. “Isn't there anything we can do to help you...?”, he asked. 

“Just leave me alone!”

The both knights in front of the door looked at each other. 

“He wasn't even that upset when he slipped during his jogging routine and broke both legs from the fall.”, Artorias said. 

“Well, he was only restrained to bed rest for a week cause of Princess Gwynevere's new Soothing Sunlight miracle. It made the injury heal much quicker than usual.”, Ciaran answered. 

“He hated having to use a bed-pan during that time.”, Artorias said and was interrupted by Ornstein's voice through the door: “Thanks for reminding me of this horrible week!” 

“So what should we do about this hairy situation?”, Artorias asked. 

“Isn't he normally easily baited with food?”, Ciaran had lowered her voice so that the dragon slayer couldn't hear her. 

“This gives me an idea. Wait here, I will be back shortly. Maybe he calms down in the meantime.”

Shortly later Artorias was back with a freshly baked batch of cookies. “This must have been a world record.”, Ciaran mumbled while Artorias knocked on the door another time. 

“Ornstein? Would you open the door for us? I have brought you some cookies as apology.”

“Cookies won't bring my hair back.”, Ornstein shouted, still sounding very upset. 

“So this plan failed.”, Artorias said and his face darkened. “Any other ideas?”

“I would say get Gwyndolin. They usually know what to do when hair dressing is involved.”, Ciaran said. 

“I'll go get them. Maybe you can try and talk to Ornstein instead? We still need him to open the door for us.”, Artorias said. 

“Having short hair is not the end of the world, Ornstein.”, Ciaran said after Artorias was gone. “Look at me, I had mine short for years now.”

“The difference is, you wanted to cut your hair short. I didn't.”

“Still, aren't you making a bit much fuss about this? Artorias is right, it will grow back. He didn't do it on purpose. You know, it could have happened something far worse. At least you still have your head.”

Ornstein didn't answer after that one.

“Fine, if you like to sulk instead, then don't expect me to try and talk further to you.”, Ciaran chuntered and sat down in front of the door, waiting for Artorias who came back with Gwyndolin. 

“Ornstein? Artorias told me what happened? Would you do me a favour and let me in? I am sure your hair needs some care right now.”, Gwyndolin said. 

There wasn't an answer.

“You know, I can't cast an illusion on you so that you get your old look back if you like.”, they offered. 

“You can come in, Gwyndolin.”, Ornstein said, but didn't attempt to open the door. 

“Um, the door is still clo...”, Artorias started but was interruped by Gwyndolin. 

“Oh, I get it.”, they said and pulled out their catalyst to teleport in the room. Seeing Ornstein leaned against the bed, they came over to him. “Oh geez, your hair is pretty much gone. I am sorry for your loss.”, they said. 

“Ciaran said to me I shouldn't make such a fuss about it, but... I don't know how to put it.... It feels like a part of me was cut off with my hair.”, Ornstein mumbled. 

“Maybe your hair had some sentimental value to you but you don't remember it.”, Gwyndolin assumed. “Even when you are very small and not even conscious yet, you notice things around you. You may not remember it but is in your sub-consciousness.” 

“I guess, that must be it....”, Ornstein said. “My hair always felt... like a source of comfort to me. Knowing that it was there already helped me out...” He looked up: “You said you could help me out?”

“Yes. I could enchant a ring with an illusion to give you your original look back. You had to wear it all the time though.”, they said. “But before I do that, may I suggest that you let me cut your hair in shape first?” They conjured some scissors. “Maybe it doesn't look so bad after all.”

“Well, the damage already has been done. Go on.”, Ornstein said gloomily. 

Gwyndolin spend a good amount of time getting Ornstein's hair cut, making sure he would look presentable. After they were satisfied, they prompted him to look into the mirror. Ornstein went over, had to pull himself together and was surprised.

“Huh, this doesn't look as bad as I thought it would...”, he said. Gwyndolin had cut his hair short, but it was still long enough that his curls could clearly be seen and that it was coating his neck. 

“Do you still want the illusion ring?”, Gwyndolin asked. 

Ornstein shook his head, feeling a bit weirded out about it cause the ponytail slapping against his armour was missing. “No, I think I am fine now... Let's go to the others.”

He opened the door. Ciaran and Artorias stood up upon noticing this. Ornstein stepped out. 

“How do I look?”, he asked. 

“This looks really good.”, Artorias said. 

Ciaran smiled beneath her mask: “See, having short hair isn't so bad.” 

“Hm, I think I will still let it grow back.”, Ornstein said. He pointed at his ponytail that Artorias still hold into his hands. “Can you give me that? I need to add this to my helmet.”

“Still in need of the lion's mane, I see.”, Artorias grinned. “How about I help you adding it and we eat the cookies together?”, he suggested. 

“Sounds good.”, Ornstein said. “And sorry that I was making such a fuss. It was a silly thing being upset about.”

“I don't think that it was a silly thing to be upset about, Ornstein. I dearly apologize to gave you such much discomfort.”, Artorias said, averting his eyes and instead preferred to look down on the floor. “You can pick a punishment for me if you want.”

“Then you have to watch me cuddle Sif while you aren't able to do it.”, Ornstein said with an evil grin, which only got a “Oh please no...”, out of Artorias while he followed him in his room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ornstein's hair managed to grow back in a year.


	17. The Herbal Garden (Smoughstein)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While taking care of Smough's herbal garden, the dragon slayer and the exucutioner start to talk about past times of their lives.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another short story already? Yeah, I felt creative and had to pump it out.

“Instead of just lying there and staring at the ceiling, you could help me with something.”

Ornstein sighed and pulled himself up from the bed. He would have preferred to do nothing this day. Just lying there and staring at the ceiling felt like the right thing to do. But he knew that Smough wouldn't stop bothering him until he would give in and partake in whatever activity the executioner had planned. 

“What do you need help with?”, Ornstein asked. Once again he had dressed into one of Smough's tunics and didn't even bother to put on some pants, it was long enough anyway. 

“You will see once we got there, but first put on some pants.”, Smough demanded. “You really need to stop to steal my clothes. I sometimes feel like I hardly have anything left.”

“Fine.”, Ornstein grumbled and searched for some suitable pants in his pile of clothes. After he had put them on, he searched out some of Smough's clothes from the pile. “I don't wear them at the moment, you can have them back.”, he said. 

“That's not how this works, Ornstein. You are lucky that you look so cute wearing my clothes. Let us talk about this later. Just follow me.”, Smough said and led the way. 

Ornstein followed him, now getting curious what Smough needed his help with. He hoped that it wasn't just another room needed to be cleaned. After they had been walking through the cathedral for several minutes, Smough opened the door to a very sunny room. Ornstein entered after his boyfriend and nearly got overwhelmed by a beautiful smell. 

“What is this place? It smells so good.”, Ornstein said and took a look around. The room had barely any furniture, only some shelves were standing around. Most of the walls of the room were plastered with large windows which were letting the sun beams in. He could spot some potted plants on the shelves, mostly standing in the sunlight. 

“This is my herbal garden.”, Smough said. “I arranged this room to make sure that the plants are feeling comfortable. I wanted you to help me take care of them.” Smough picked up a small watering can from one of the shelves and gave it to Ornstein: “Would you water the basil for me?” 

Ornstein took the watering can and glanced around: “Which one is that, Smough?”

“This one.”, Smough said and pointed at a plant with large green leafs. “Just make sure to keep the soil in the pot wet, don't drown the plant.” Smough picked up a second watering can and attempted to took care of some of the other plants. 

Ornstein watered the basil like told and then just kept standing there, taking in the smell of the plant. Smough noticed that he was finished and came over to him: “Why are you just standing there with your nose in the plant?”

“It smells so good.”, Ornstein said. “Do you want me to do another thing?”

“Yes, the cress is ready for harvesting.” The executioner pulled out some scissors and gave them to Ornstein. “ He pointed to a pot with a lot of plants with tiny leafs and a long stem. “Just cut off the tips, we then let them dry in the sun and later can put them into the seasoning bottle.” 

While Ornstein was busy carefully cutting off the tips of the cress, he asked: “How long did you have this herbal garden already?”

“I have been growing my own herbs since I arrived in Anor Londo.”, Smough answered. “Although, earlier it wasn't in the cathedral. I had a room in the town where I had them all stored. I moved them once the cathedral started to empty out and arranged an unoccupied room for them.” The executioner stopped with his explanation, looking like he was musing in thoughts. “Actually, it was my late wife who taught me all about raising and taking care of herbs.”

That piqued Ornstein's interest. He had never heard of that before. “Smough, you have been married?”, he asked. 

“Yes. She was called Alicia. She was so tiny compared to me. I could easily pick her up with one hand.” Smough smiled at this memory. “I told you about our troubles with food in my village. Why we had to resort to cannibalism...” Ornstein nodded and Smough continued: “I normally had been in charge preparing the meat, but for lots of us it was still difficult to eat. Alicia used to grow herbs. It was one of the few things we could grow, that wouldn't die or get destroyed immediately. “ He sighed. “Anyway, her herbs helped our food to taste way better and helped the people forget what it was they were eating. She normally would come to me with the new herbal mix to add to the food and we soon grew close and fell in love with each other.” 

“But you said your late wife... How did she...?”, Ornstein asked, stopping mid-sentence, cursing himself cause he didn't want to evoke bad memories in his boyfriend. 

“You want to know, how she died, right? Don't worry, that has been long ago. I am already over it.” Smough finished watering his current plant and moved on to another. “One day, she got sick. It didn't feel serious at first, we thought she just had a little cold. But it got worse and worse and we didn't had the medicine or the food to nurse her back to health again...” Smough's face darkened. “And then she died... and you know what he had to do next...” 

Ornstein shuddered at the thought. Having to eat people to stay alive was bad enough, but having to eat one of your loved ones...

“It feels a bit strange that I have not been your first one.”, Ornstein said. “I am finished by the way. Is there another thing to do?” 

“The thyme has grown quite a bit and needs a new pot.”, Smough said and fetched some materials before carrying over the plant. While he was busy preparing the pot, watched closely by Ornstein, he said: “But Ornstein, I haven't been your first either, right?”

Ornstein felt a pang in his stomach and his heart sinking into his pants. “Yes... I was in a relationship with my master before you...”, he said gloomily. 

“I guess both of our first loves broke our heart.”, Smough said. 

“At least yours had no other choice and you are left with the good memories of her.”, Ornstein said. “She didn't piss on anything you believed in and you stood for and just left you alone, feeling broken with that burning question of why he did it.” The last few words of the dragon slayer sounded very snappy. 

“True. Her death was tragic and very hard for me, but I still have the good memories and we could say our proper good byes to each other. She even asked me to make her extra tasty for the remaining village people.”, Smough said. 

“See? The master was not like this.”, Ornstein said, starting to feel furious. “Suddenly we found him having sided with the very beings we waged a war with and if that wasn't enough shock, Lord Gwyn banished him and when I ran after him and wanted to know, why he did this, he just said to me that I would understand in the future.” Ornstein took a deep breath. “Well, I didn't understand back then. I still don't understand now. I just know that everything bad started to happen when he left. I had my very first break down right at this day. And they never stopped happening. For weeks I cried myself to sleep. I was torn between keeping up with my duties and just leave and search for him. In the end... I decided he wasn't worth it.” 

Ornstein wiped away some tears that had started to collect in his eyes and felt how Smough pulled him into a hug. “That must has been hard.”, he said. 

“Even today I sometimes think about him. I think about if he ever regretted leaving Anor Londo... leaving me behind.”, Ornstein said. “I was sitting in front of his broken statue at the sunlight altar for months, a part of me hoping that he would hear my prayers. A part of me was cursing him because he gave everything we had up.” Ornstein sniffled. “To be honest, if he would suddenly stand in front of our door, I don't know what I would do....”

“Please don't cry.”, Smough said, wiping the tears away from Ornstein's beautiful green eyes. “I won't leave you behind. I won't go anywhere, I promise.” 

“Besides, if one day you have a change of mind and want to search for him, I would be honoured to tag along.”, he continued. 

“Smough, thanks so much for saying that.”, Ornstein said trying to hold back some fresh tears. “But I don't plan to go anywhere. I just want to stay here with you. Until the very end.”


	18. The Sniffing (NKstein)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ornstein wants to take the master's scent with him even when they are separated.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is for my dear friends of our Discord server who were always listening to my rambles when my insecurites took over the last few days. Enjoy! 
> 
> Also, I am pretty sure the word panty didn't exist in medieval times, but I am taken this artistic liberty cause I really like this word.

As usual, Ornstein was the first one to be awake. 

Sighing, he buried his face deeper into the master's chest. He didn't want to get up. He would like to lie here forever, cuddled against his lover, but he knew that couldn't be. He had to get ready before anyone else would get up, so that he could exit the room of the prince unsighted. He allowed himself a few more moments to take in the smell of his boyfriend before carefully slipping out of his hug and staggering over to his clothes and armour. 

With a wistful glance at the sleeping form of the master, Ornstein first tied his long hair into a ponytail before bowing down to pick up his underwear. He quickly realized, that the large panty he had in his hands couldn't be his. A faint memory told him that the master had thrown his underwear off yesterday and it seemed to have landed on Ornstein's pile of clothes. Ornstein could feel the blood rush in his face, but he wasn't really sure why. He had seen the master naked plenty of times by now. There shouldn't be any reason for him to be embarrassed only by holding his panties. 

Ornstein slowly turned to the bed. The still form and the regular heaving of the blankets told him, that his boyfriend was still asleep. Ornstein's lip split into a grin. He moved the panties closer to his face to take in the smell. The beautiful smell he missed so much whenever the two of them were separated. A smell he felt like he could drown in. After he was satisfied, he was about to just lay the panties back down, but hesitated.

Surely, the master wouldn't miss one pair of panties...

After Ornstein got dressed, he went over to the bed and leaned down to give a soft kiss to his boyfriend. The larger man shifted in his sleep and then slowly opened the eyes. “...is it morning already?”, he asked. 

Ornstein nodded. “I need to go.”, he said. 

“Let me at least come to the door with you.”, the master said. As usual, any excuse for them to be together a bit longer, was taken. Ornstein didn't mind. He put on his helmet and took his spear and waited for the master to get dressed. Who paced around in the room, looking left and right and then stopping, scratching his head.

“Ornstein, have you seen my underwear?”, he asked. 

Ornstein's inside automatically tensed at this question, he could feel the blood rush into his face again, but he shook his head, feeling the panty he had stuffed into the pocket of the woolen clothes he liked to wear under his armour. 

“Whatever, I guess I threw it too far, it probably lies on cupboard or such.”, the master mumbled and opened a drawer to put on another piece of underwear. Then he led Ornstein to the door. The master had told the silver knights that they didn't need to patrol in front of his room this night, so the coast was clear. The two lovers shared a last hug. 

“We see each other at the usual time?”, the master asked and Ornstein nodded before departing from the master's room. He slowly walked along the hallway, waving to his boyfriend and the moment he heard the click of the door, Ornstein was running off. 

He arrived at his room slightly out of breath and managed to pull out the stolen panties out of his pocket. He took off his helmet and grinned. Now he had the master's smell whenever he wanted. The dragon slayer quickly indulged a bit more into this personal drug, before opening a drawer and putting the underwear there. It was time to start his duties. 

A few days later, the beautiful smell wasn't there anymore. Of course, when the master wasn't wearing his underwear, the scent had to vanish eventually. Ornstein just stood there with the panty in hands, frustration rising up in him. Sniffing the underwear had helped him a lot with the lonely times in his room and it had been perfect to calm him down whenever another jealousy fit hit. Sighing, he contemplated what to do with it.

He couldn't just give it back to the master, how embarrassing, then he had to admit why he did had it in the first place. And he couldn't just give it to the servants who made the laundry, clearly a panty that was far too large for him in a basket with his name on it would provoke questions. And the royal family had their own personal servants, so he couldn't just sneak it back. He decided to just leave it in the drawer. But what should he do now? After a short time, his face split back into a grin. Surely, the master wouldn't miss two of his panties... 

About two weeks later Ornstein had invited Artorias into his room for the paper work. The two knights were provided with some cookies and a can of tea to easy their work. Ornstein was busy reading through a paper and taking a sip of his tea, when Artorias asked: “Do you miss some of your underwear, Ornstein?”

Ornstein nearly choked on the tea, but managed to swallow it and just looked at Artorias astounded: “What kind of question is this?”

“Oh, let me explain.”, Artorias started. “Earlier I was talking with Prince Gwynfor. He told me that his underwear kept vanishing. He had the assumption that maybe one of the servants who does the laundry could be the thief. He wanted to know if I was missing underwear too. I didn't, but I promised him to ask any other person I knew about it.”, he finished. 

Ornstein shook his head. “No, I don't miss any underwear.”, he said and shortly after realization hit. The master had figured out that his underwear was missing. He glanced over to the drawer where he had stored now three of them, but quickly put his attention to the papers again.

“The royal family has personal servants anyway, they couldn't have taken our stuff.”, he said and hoped that the subject was done with this. 

“I guess...”, Artorias said and dunked his quill into the inkwell. After he wrote a few words, he dunked it in again, but... “Ornstein, your inkwell is empty.”

“Just look in the usual drawer, I should have a spare one.”, Ornstein said without looking up. He then remembered that Artorias often had some trouble remembering where he put his stuff and looked up only to see that Artorias was in the process of opening “that” drawer. 

“Artorias, no, not that one!”, he shouted, but it was too late. Artorias just stood there dumbfounded, mouth agape. Ornstein felt like hiding from the whole world, his face felt hot and was surely super red. After what felt like an eternity, Artorias turned around. 

“So you have been the underwear thief.”, he calmly stated. “You know that I have to report this to the prince.”

“Please, no, Artorias!”, Ornstein begged. “How should I explain this to him?”

“Hmmm... then I won't.”, Artorias said and Ornstein released the breath he had hold in. “But you have to tell me why you had them in the first place.”

Of all things. But it was that or Artorias would straight up run to the master and tell him about this thievery. Which was a very unknightly thing to do. He sighed. “I wanted to have his scent with me...”, he whispered, barely audible. 

“What, I can't hear you.”, Artorias said but from his amused smile Ornstein was sure the wolf knight already knew, he just wanted him to admit it. 

Ornstein swallowed down the hard dry lump that had formed into his throat, took a deep breath and said: “I wanted to have his scent with me when we couldn't be together.”

“You tell me you were sniffing this?”, Artorias now widely grinned. “I won't tell him about this, but you should give him his underwear back.” Artorias sat down back on the table like that incident had never happened. 

“I guess...”, Ornstein said and scolded himself mentally for not hiding the panties better. 

The next day, Ornstein was standing in front of the master's door. He took a deep breath, straightened himself up and waited for him to open the door. Now only one question remained. How in the world should he explain that he was the panty thief to him?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have left this open ended on purpose. How about you, dear reader, fill in how that conversation went?


	19. The Piano (Smoughstein)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ornstein discovers an old piano and tries to get into playing it again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This piece is strongly inspired by the headcanon of dark souls artist barasbu, that Ornstein likes to play the piano.
> 
> The Smoughstein bit is only at the very far end.

Ornstein was on his patrol around the unused guest rooms when he encountered the piano. 

A part of him just wondered why it had been put in a guest room. Another part of him felt the urge to actually sit down and play it. He had played the piano quite often back at the orphanage (a gift from the founder of the orphanage who Ornstein was named after). 

But that had been quite a few years ago. He didn't had time for such nonsense. Ornstein left the room and continued his patrol. 

But the piano didn't leave his mind, not during the patrol, not during dinner. After he had finished eating, he didn't go to his room, but instead made his way back to the room with the piano in it. 

Once in the room, he just stared at it. It seemed to be kept in top shape, he couldn't see any dust on it. Ornstein took a few steps closer and opened the wooden lid to admire the ebony and ivory keys. He took a seat on the chair in front of it. He pulled his gauntlets off, cracked his fingers and gently pressed some keys. He was satisfied to hear a clear, nice tone. But what should he play? It had been so long...

Luckily someone had put some sheet music on top of the piano and Ornstein decided to take a look. He recognized a few of the songs. One was a song of a city of the night, one was a song for the beginning of a long journey, one was a song for unspoken words, one was a song for mischievous jesters and one was a song about the melody of water, which made Ornstein's face go pale when he looked at the pace and complexity of the song. The last sheet music he looked at, was the song of the royal family. 

That was it. It was a somber piano piece consisting of mostly three notes as a leitmotif and Ornstein was sure he should be able to handle the pace. He put the sheet music on and started to play the song.

….and failed horribly. It had been some time and he underestimated how rusty he had become. He tried to play the song a few more times before giving up. First, he had to remember which key would play which note. Ornstein stood up, closed the lid of the piano, gathered his gauntlets and went back to his room. 

The next day Ornstein overheard a conversation of the silver knights. 

“You know that guest room with the piano in it?”, the first one asked. 

“Yes, what is with it?”, answered the second one.

“Someone played it yesterday evening. But like... super bad. I couldn't even make out the song they were trying.” 

Ouch, that burned... Ornstein didn't expect to have listeners and he would surely not tell his silver knights that he had been the awful piano player. But some determination in him sparked to life. This evening he returned to the piano. He would practice and he would start with determining which key would play which note. 

The next day, Ornstein made sure to overhear the conversation of the same silver knights again. 

“The mysterious piano player was at it again.”

“And, have they gotten better?”

“They were practicing how to play actually. I wonder if they have heard what I said?”

“Do you think the mysterious piano player is one of us?”

“I don't know. They wouldn't have to keep it secret though. Oh well, maybe they were ashamed because of how bad they played.” 

The two silver knights chuckled and went off to their duties. Once dinner time came, the rumour had spread and a large portion of the silver knights would discuss the identity of the mysterious piano player. 

Ornstein was sure that pretty much no one would assume them to be their captain, so he returned to the piano room the third evening in a row. He remembered how to play the notes now and he would practice the piece he had picked out. After the evening had passed and Ornstein grew too tired to continue, he had improved but he wasn't back at his former skills. He made a mental note to come back the next day. 

Ornstein continued practicing like this the next three days and got closer and closer back to his former skills. Meanwhile, the silver knights were running wild with theories about the mysterious piano player. Ornstein couldn't help but grin under his helmet, they would never guess who the real identity of them was. He was thinking about eventually telling them. But first he had to practice one last time.

This evening should be the one where he managed to get back to his former skills. Ornstein sat down in front of the piano, put up the sheet notes and started playing. His fingers dancing across the piano keys, the only thing he felt was his movement and the music. He had forgotten how relaxing and good it felt to play the piano. After roughly four minutes he hit the last note and pulled his hands away from the keys, satisfied. That was, when the door suddenly bursted and a bunch of silver knights rolled into the room. Ornstein got so startled that he slammed his hands in the keys, creating a loud sound. He heard a few voices calling at once:

“Captain?”

“Ornstein?” 

Ornstein stood up, walked over to the busted door and tapped with his foot. “Artorias, silver knights, what do you have to say in your defense?”, he asked. 

Artorias got up and dusted off his armour. “Sorry Ornstein, it's just... we were completely amazed by your song and all our weights were too much for the door...” Artorias fidgeted with his hands. “We didn't even know it was you who was playing. I am completely baffled actually, I didn't know you could play the piano.” Some of the silver knights nodded in agreement to Artorias words. 

“Well, I haven't played in a long while and I never told you.”, Ornstein said. “Surprise, the mysterious piano player has been me all along. I actually wanted to tell you all, but now you ruined the surprise.” 

“Sorry, Ornstein...”, Artorias looked down on the floor, clearly ashamed. 

“Silver knights, go back to your duties. And send someone over who can fix the door.”, Ornstein ordered and the silver knights quickly got on their way. Artorias stayed. 

“You could have told me that you play an instrument, I would have liked to accompany you.”, he said. 

“Do you play an instrument too?”

“I like to sing.”

“You never told me that you can sing.”

“Like you never told me that you can play the piano.”

“Touché...”

“Just ask me and Ciaran to accompany you the next time. She on the violin, you on the piano and me singing, that will be great.”

Ornstein smiled: “Will do.”  
___

Ornstein had been on his way searching for something to clean when he encountered the piano again. He stopped dead in his tracks. It had been so long ago, but he remembered very clearly how he first found it and spent a week to practice how to play again. 

He took a few steps closer, putting the bucket on the floor, rag in his hands. A part of him never knew why Smough insisted on cleaning all the rooms in the cathedral, even the ones they never used, but another part knew that it was to keep him occupied and spare him the bad thoughts. 

Ornstein dipped the rag in the bucket. The piano was covered with a thick layer of dust. He carefully removed it and after he was satisfied with his work, he dried his hands on his apron and took a seat on the chair in front of the piano. For a short moment it occurred to him how ridiculous he must have looked, with the apron and and the head scarf Smough had made him wear to protect his hair from getting dirty while cleaning. But then he picked up the sheet music that still was there, after all this year. He quickly found the song he wanted to play, the song of the royal family. 

Ornstein took a deep breath, stretched his fingers and pressed the first keys only to be hit by a horrible sound. Right, nobody maintained this thing anymore. It was completely untuned. Ornstein remembered that a tuning fork normally was kept near the piano. He found it and got to work. After he was finished, he took his seat again and started playing. He made a few mistakes, but not nearly as bad as the first time he had tried to play again after a long absence. He was in the middle of playing the song a second time, when he heard Smough's voice from the door.

“Kitten? I didn't knew you could play the piano.”, he said.

Ornstein stopped mid song: “Well, I have never told you.”

“This sounded pretty nice. Can you play again? I would like to listen.”, Smough requested. 

Ornstein shot him a tiny smile. “Alright, I wanted to practice a bit anyway. Take a seat.” 

Smough came fully into the room and sat down on the bed. 

“Enjoy the song of the royal family.”, Ornstein said and started to play from the beginning. His fingers were dancing across the keys like they used to and Ornstein awaited to enter the special state of relaxation and euphoria when playing music, instead, he could feel tears well up in his eyes, which soon started to drop on the discoloured piano keys. He smashed his right hand into the keys, the left was resting on his forehead. Smough was at his side in a brief moment.

“Kitten, what's wrong?”, he wanted to know. 

“They... they would always be here... and listen...”, he sniffed. “Or accompany me...” The tears flowed freely down his face now. “But... they are not here anymore. Nobody is here anymore to listen. They are all... gone!”

“I am here to listen.”, Smough reassured Ornstein, but it was too late. The knight just cuddled in his boyfriend's big chest, crying of the pain. Smough rubbed comforting circles in his back. 

“It has been too much for you.”, he said. “Let me get you into our room, you need to calm down.” The executioner picked Ornstein up, who held on to him as if his life was depending on it. 

“I really liked to hear you play, though. I hope you will play for me again.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I snuck in some video game music at the sheet music that Ornstein looked at. Feel free to guess which songs these are. A hint, they are all J-RPGs and pretty much piano centric pieces.


	20. The Accusation (Gwoughstein)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gwynfor is missing some of his shirts and accuses Smough to be the thief. The latter, however, knows what really is going on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, it has been a while, hasn't it? The short stories were pretty dormant, mostly because I have been busy with writing for the Badthingshappenbingo in which a lot of stories landed that were originally planned to be short stories. Then, some stuff in my life happened and writing inspiration has been low, but I feel like I am back now and I still want to explore this characters quite a bit. So enjoy this little story about my OT3.)

Gwynfor stood in front of his closet, staring at it, wondering why he only had one shirt left, when he had just done his laundry and had put the dried up clothes in it just yesterday. That could only mean one thing...

“Smough!”, Gwynfor shouted. “Could you come here for a moment?” 

A few moments later he heard the shuffling of big feet and the executioner entered the room. “What is it, Prince?”, Smough wanted to know. 

Gwynfor planted himself in front of the closet and extended both arms in the direction of the voidness of clothes. “Would you please explain this to me?” 

Smough blinked once, twice, staring at the closet, then he stemmed his hands into his hips. “Very funny, Prince.”, he said. “And why would you think I am the one who stole your clothes? Look at me, I am bigger than you!” 

“Yes, but you are at least kind of close to my size. I mean, you can't tell me, that Ornstein took them, he would vanish into them...”, Gwynfor said. 

“Prince, let me tell you one thing.”, Smough said. “I was in the same shoes as you right now. My shirts were vanishing one by one. And you know who was the one wearing them? Ornstein!”

Gwynfor stared at Smough first with disbelief but then his expression shifted into one of amusement. “It must look so cute on him.”, he said with a dreamy expression. 

“Oh, it is.”, Smough squealed in, but his voice got stern right away. “But! It isn't tolerable for Ornstein to steal our clothes without asking, so we should claim them back. And knowing him, he has hidden them somewhere in the cathedral. Last time it was in our room, but since I found this stash, he has gotten more, uh, creative...”, the executioner explained. 

“So I guess we have to search the whole cathedral?”, Gwynfor sighed. “We better get going then. Where should we search first?”

“The hiding places are mostly in rooms he has an emotional bond to.”, Smough said. “I would suggest to search the trophy room first.” 

“That reminds me.”, Gwynfor started to tell on their way there, “One time, when Ornstein and I still had to keep our relationship a secret, he would start to steel my panties.” He stopped his story when he heard Smough snorting besides him. 

“Now that is just ridiculous. Shirts he can wear easily with a belt, but why would he wear your underwear?” 

“He didn't wear it. He sniffed it.”, Gwynfor said this with a blank face and was satisfied to see how the expression of Smough shifted from amusement to a slight anger. 

“He NEVER sniffed my panties!”, he grumbled. 

“Well, maybe I smell better down there.”, Gwynfor grinned and quickly added when he noticed Smough's glare, “Oh, come on, he is cuddling more with you. Let me have this.” 

“It is not my fault that I am squishy and soft.”, Smough answered and the both of them entered the trophy room. 

“So, one of his hiding places is putting it into one of the dragon's mouths.”, Smough explained. “Of course he can only use the ones he can reach, but we both know that Ornstein can jump pretty high, so would you check the ones higher up?” 

Gwynfor nodded and after a short while he made a find and pulled the cloth out of the dragon's head. “Found it!”, he announced and took a look at the shirt. “Yours.”, he said and tossed it to Smough.

“Ah, I have searched this one for weeks.”, Smough said while catching the shirt. “I told you he was getting creative.” 

“So where could we search in addition?”, Gwynfor asked. “I would suspect the conference room for example.” 

“Yeah, that is a good bet. He also managed to hid some of them at the statue of his, even though it is quite a bit away.”, Smough explained. “Let's just go to all the places and we should have our clothes back in a bit.” 

After a small scavenger hunt both Gwynfor and Smough had found a good portion of their clothes, but some of them were still missing, especially the ones that Gwynfor had just put into the closet. “Also, where is Ornstein?”, Gwynfor questioned. “I haven't seen him since breakfast.” 

“Probably napping somewhere in the sunlight.”, Smough answered. “He does this a lot. And, ooooh... I think I know where the rest of your shirts are!” The executioner suddenly stormed off and Gwynfor had to make an effort to catch up to him. Smough had stopped in front of a door which emitted a pleasant scent. 

“What kind of room is this? It smells delicious.”, Gwynfor said, taking in the scent.

“Yeah, Ornstein thinks this too and this is why we have to be quiet now.”, Smough whispered and silently turned the handle, tiptoeing into the room. Gwynfor followed and noticed that the pleasant smell came from dozen of herb plants, carefully placed in the room, most of them at sunny spots. Smough sneaked to a very specific corner of the room and Gwynfor soon could see why, because in that specific corner on a bench, Ornstein had curled himself up, clearly wearing one of Gwynfor's shirt and using at least three others as blankets while napping in the sunlight, his ponytail was dangling from the edge of the bench and fell onto the floor. Gwynfor had to do this best to restrain a squeal cause how adorable it looked. 

“See?”, Smough whispered, “There he is, using our shirts. I would claim them back, but he is looking to cute like this.” The executioner was looking at their mutual boyfriend with loving eyes. Gwynfor nodded, but suddenly burst out:

“Wait a moment! He is herding our clothes like a dragon would herd its treasure! What a fine dragon slayer he is!”

Gwynfor hadn't realized in time the motions Smough made at him to tone it down and it was indeed to late, cause Ornstein had jerked up, blinking confusedly at them. 

“Smough, Master, what are you doing here?”, he asked, yawning, then suddenly snatched all the shirts he had herded. “Don't take them away from me, please...” 

“Ornstein, we talked about this...”, Smough sighed. “I told you, you can take my shirts, but how about you ask first instead of stowing them away and making me scavenge hunt the whole cathedral and more? And now you even included the prince in this...”

Ornstein pouted: “Aw, come on, that is no fun.” Then he looked at Gwynfor and the prince could see the guilt shining in his eyes. “Maybe I should have asked first, sorry, Master. Smough is used to this already... I hope you aren't too upset...”

“So I am not getting an apology?”, Smough complained, but Gwynfor could see him grinning. Gwynfor decided to join Ornstein on the bench. 

“I don't mind if you wear my clothes.”, he said. “But maybe, don't borrow them right after I have washed them? I need a few of them for my own, you know.” He gave Ornstein's head a few hearty strokes. Smough joined them and laid a hand on Ornstein's shoulder. 

“I know that you find great comfort in wearing and surrounding yourself with the clothes of loved ones, but think a bit about us, too, right?”, he said. 

Ornstein nodded and cuddled himself at both his boyfriends. “I am sorry, I won't take them without asking anymore.”, he said. “Also, Master, what was this thing about comparing me to a dragon...?”

“You heard that?”, Gwynfor laughed. “Nothing, you are just adorable, that is all.”

**Author's Note:**

> If you liked this work, please consider leaving me a comment and/or check out my other works. Thank you very much.


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